The Art of Forging a Heart
by MyVintageLove
Summary: AU. She's a SIS agent. He's the best conman Great Britain has even known. No one has ever caught him, no matter how hard they tried. He's a challenge. Her challenge. Rose Tyler x Loki
1. Intro: Of museums

**Disclaimer:** Neither Doctor Who nor The Avengers belong to me (unfortunately) nor do Rose Tyler nor Loki (even more unfortunate). The story is mostly inspired by White Collar and this series doesn't belong to me either (as you could have easily guess). All the aliases used in the story are references to Billie and Tom's other roles in their acting career and belong to whom it might belong.  
**Summary:** She's a SIS agent. He's the best conman Great Britain has even known. No one has ever caught him, no matter how hard they tried. He's a challenge. Her challenge. When she takes the case, she decides to have him at his own game by going under cover. Mission: Bad Wolf. Code Name: Hannah Baxter. Everything scheduled to the second, everything perfectly planned to catch him. But what she didn't expect was to be fascinated by him, between seduction and art thief.  
**Author's Note:** This story began with a graphic I posted on my Tumblr and quickly became a whole story in my head. I will never thank Sam enough for her beta reading. I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

She stood in front of the painting, her head cocked slightly to one side. It was beautiful, she could admit. She bit her lip with concentration, admiring every detail, every brush stroke. She had missed that, she realised while biting on her thumbnail - the calm of a museum and losing herself in a painting. She hadn't visited a museum in years, not since... Not since_ him_. It was their habit, museums and art galleries and running with his hand in hers after touching a sculpture on a bet, the guards coming after them. The taste of memories was bittersweet on her tongue. She missed him too. But it was better missing museums. At least they were still here, waiting for her.

She was so lost in her thoughts she barely realised that someone was now standing next to her, watching the painting too. She glanced at him swiftly, barely a second, before looking back at the canvas. They remained silent, as if each was waiting for the other to talk first, or as if they were respecting the painting so much neither of them wanted to talk at all. After five long minutes – was it that long? she didn't think so – she finally opened her mouth, her words just a whisper.

"It is said that Van Gogh actually hated sunflowers."

"Yes, I watch Doctor Who too."

Her snort rang throughout the room and the guard glared at her. She put her hand in front of her mouth not to make any more sound. He just offered her the ghost of a smile before looking back at the painting.

"I like the intensity of those paintings", he said, "all the shades of yellow he used, it makes the whole thing so real. It would have been impossible a few years earlier, since the pigments didn't exist yet."

"So alive."

"Yet so dead."

"It's beautiful."

"It's majestic."

"Too bad it's a fake."

"Yes ind—sorry, what?"

She walked away, smile on her lips, and she almost chuckled when she heard his footsteps following her. It was almost too easy. She stopped in front of a Cézanne, faking interest in the painting. He stood next to her again, the same look of fake attention for the painting in his eyes.

"The glint on the vase. I mean, it's a really good copy, I understand how the curator could not notice... But still a copy."

"And you are?"

"A fan of your work."

She smiled at him, glad to see he didn't seem surprise, confused, or even lost. Actually she couldn't read his feelings on his face or in his eyes. It was a good thing, she knew, it was a way to protect himself. Her smile widened. He looked at her, really looked at her, from toes to the top of her head, and she saw his features softening.

"Hannah. Hannah Baxter." She held her hand out to him. He shook it almost immediately.

"Loki Odinson. But you already know that, apparently."

She grinned, her tongue touching her teeth. "Such a big fan."

She took care to brush past him as she left, slipping a business card into his pocket. Just before exiting the room, she turned around to look at him. He was still watching her. She smiled again, giving him a lazy salute. He nodded and almost smiled back.

Oh, it was going to be so easy.


	2. 1 Of offices and phone calls

**Author's note:** This is a bit of a Loki-free chapter but he'll be back and more glorious than even in the next chapter! This one introduces Rose's work and background story — don't worry, we'll come back in details about certain events and _a certain person_ later. And, as you'll notice, only Doctor Who characters (beside Loki) have been introduced yet. The Avengers ones will come later, at least one in the next chapter.

Once again, thanks to Sam for her work as a beta-reader. And thanks for the feedbacks, both in reviews and on Tumblr.

Read and review (pretty please)!

* * *

"What d'ya think?"

"I think you'll have to lose the chav accent for it to sound credible, sweetheart."

With a grin, Rose stood from the desk she was sitting on to hit Mickey on the chest. He faked being in pain despite his chuckles. Sitting back on the desk and crossing her legs, she glanced back at her father's office, only separated from the open space office by a large bay window. Peter Tyler was too busy debriefing with Jake, probably about the young agent's last case, to notice he was being observed – and Rose knew he wouldn't have bothered looking back at her even if he'd noticed her watching.

"I can be posh too, it's not that difficult", she answered, switching from one accent to another. "But that's not what I was asking you."

Mickey's laughs weakened as he thought, really considering the idea for the first time. Rose looked at him, biting her lower lip, anxiously waiting for his answer. Mickey's opinion was always the most important to her, he knew her so well, every strength and every weakness. If anyone knew whether she could do it or not, no doubt it was Mickey.

"I think..." he started, Rose immediately looking at him, eagerness in her eyes. "I think it might not be such a bad idea. We're on a dead end on this case anyway. Fresh ideas might not be that bad."

She grinned at him, tongue between her teeth, which made him laugh.

"But it's not me you'll have to convince, sweetheart."

As if perfectly choreographed, both of them turned their heads to look at Peter Tyler, still in his office. Rose sighed. "I know. Won't be easy-peasy."

She looked down, the tip of her foot playing with the leg of a chair, and the two friends remained silent for a bit. Mickey looked at his cell phone, probably thinking of something to do, somewhere to go, anything to escape this awkward silence. Rose decided to speak after three minutes of the oppressing atmosphere.

"Soooo... Your date with Trisha?"

His first answer was a cool laugh. "As if you care about my love life. But it was fine. We went to the..."

But Rose didn't learn where Mickey had taken Trisha on their date, or if he had actually managed to sleep with her that night. Jake left Pete's office at that moment, and the sound of the opening glass door made them both look in that direction. With quick footsteps Jake approached them, but Rose barely noticed that. Pete was at the door, which was surprising as he never bothered to do so when people were leaving his office, and he was looking straight at her. She swallowed when, with a sign of his hand, he beckoned her to come. Mickey and Jake, already chatting about some video game, stopped talking to look at her.

"Wish me luck," she whispered.

Maybe Jake told her to break a leg and asked why she needed luck anyway. Maybe she just imagined that as she started walking. She only stopped in front of her father, a nervous smile on her lips.

"Boss?"

"In my office. Now."

Not only did he close the door behind them, he tinted the bay window by pushing a button on his desk. She swallowed once more. How much trouble was she in? With little, nervous movements, she sat on a chair, not daring to look at her father. He was the best daddy in the world, without a doubt, and she loved him with all her heart. But she had learnt from her first day at the SIS headquarters that when they were at work, he was nothing more than her boss. There was no place for family here.

"Is there something you want to ask me, Rosie?"

She looked up, so quickly her neck hurt, surprise in her eyes. No place for family, and yet he was using the nickname he only ever used at home. It was only a matter of seconds before she appeared composed again, sitting straight in her chair, her 'business smile' on her lips.

"I want to take Loki Odinson's case."

"I know." She wasn't even surprised that he did. "But why would I give it to you?"

"Because you open the case every six months, don't find any new clues about how to catch him, close the case and open it again six months later. It's almost scheduled to the second, and I bet he understood that years ago. We need to surprise him. The case was closed a month ago. I want to open it now. Also, we've only ever had male agents on this case. I want to be the first woman on the case and I want to be the one putting him into jail."

Pete just looked at her for a while, thoughtful. "How would you proceed?"

"Under cover. You know I studied art in college and that's why I got hired in the first place. I manage to make him notice me, I pretend to be one of the bad guys. If I do it right, he'll trust me and I'll be able to catch him red-handed."

"But how would he notice you?"

"Like I said. I'm a woman." She grinned. "And a woman who knows things about art. He won't be able to resist."

Pete's laugh was loud and Rose could swear she had never seen him more proud of her and her job than in this moment. She smiled back and relaxed, crossing her legs in front of her while sitting back lazily in the chair, slouched. From this moment, Pete grew more silent, going over files and documents. Rose lost her smile.

"Oh my God! You really don't want to give me the case because of that? It was three years ago!"

"And he broke your heart! I don't want that case to turn in a Doctor 2.0.!"

She gasped, not knowing if it was because she was offended by her father's words or because it was the first time in months someone had used John Smith's nickname in front of her. She tried to convince herself it was the first option. Of course it was, it couldn't be otherwise. So why did it hurt so much to think about him again? Why did the memories come back to her so quickly, so painfully? For years she had managed to bury them, it was easiest pretending nothing had happened. It was easiest pretending he hadn't crushed her heart into millions of pieces by leaving her one day, without looking back, without telling her where he was going. Yes, it was so much easier that way.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to calm her heartbeat. In vain. "It's not the same, Daddy, and you know it. It's just a job. It will stay just a job. With the Doc–John, it was different. I didn't know who he really was. I know who Loki is. And I want him in jail as much as any other agent in this office."

Pete folded his arms on his desk, leaning closer to her. She could read the feelings, the thoughts on his face like an open book. He seemed to hesitate, almost turned back, and finally gave up. "He visits the National Gallery every Wednesday at eleven o'clock exactly. He's stolen Van Gogh's Sunflowers a few weeks ago and thinks we haven't noticed yet, so he comes to admire his art every week at the same hour." Pete stopped with a small sigh. "I hope you realise how much I love you to let you do this."

She grinned and squeaked like a little mouse, hopping on her chair. And, finally, she jumped on her feet and ran around the desk to hug her father tightly, laughing like a child while she thanked him over and over again.

"Please, don't make me regret it already."

* * *

She entered the building with so much confidence the secretaries stopped talking to look at her. She only smiled at them as she passed by. In the lift, she leant again the wall, looking up and sighing happily. Could someone die of overconfidence? She certainly hoped not. It was such a nice feeling... And only the beginning of her undercover investigation. Oh, she was going to be so good at it!

Without surprise, Mickey and Jake were at their desk, working and chatting. She stopped in front of them, wriggling like a kid on Christmas morning. Mickey, used to her after all those years, managed to ignore her but Jake, after a quick glance at her, did a double take and started giggling like a school boy.

"Okay, do tell us, you're dying to."

She opened her mouth but no word came out of it so she closed it, took a nearby chair and sat on it, sticking her elbows on Jake's desk. The grin she had while entering the building hadn't left her lips yet.

"I rocked his world. Told him what he wanted to hear, played a bit with his ego. He tried not to be surprised by me but I saw I had his attention. Then I slipped my number into his pocket. Won't be long before his call, you'll see."

"How was he?" Jake asked.

"Tall, really tall. Dark hair, green eyes. Super attractive."

Mickey laughed. "Not sure that what he was asking, sweetheart. But don't you think it was maybe too easy?"

She pouted and shook her head, raising her chin. "I'm just that good."

"What if he doesn't—" but Mickey was cut off by Rose's ringtone.

She looked at him, victorious, fighting the need to point at him with a 'ha ha, I told you so!', and jumped to her feet, phone in hand. With a quick hand gesture, Jake asked her to put the call on speakers while Mickey was muttering something about girls going batshit crazy when you didn't let them on the field for a long time. She just ignored him and picked up with a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Miss Baxter?" Jake mockingly mouthed the name. She turned her back at him. "It's Loki, we... met earlier."

"Yes, I do remember."

"I was wondering if you'd like to have tea with me. What about Friday at four?"

She noticed that, even when asking, he was barely giving her the choice. She didn't mind, of course. And she was used to alpha males thinking they could choose for her.

"Friday sounds good, yes."

"Do you know The Park Room & Library? It's overlooking Hyde Park."

"I'll be there. Friday at four?"

"I'm looking forward to it, Miss Baxter." There was sweetness in his voice, she could almost picture him smiling at the other end of the phone. She was actually so busy picturing it she didn't immediately realised he had hung up. Mickey's voice called her back to earth.

"Bloody hell! Forty quid for tea! You wanted posh, Rose?"

He was looking at his computer screen, eyes wide open, and she couldn't help but look over his shoulder. His Internet browser was open to the tea room's website. It was all about pretty pictures and pastel colours, elegant and refined. As Mickey said, it reeked posh for miles. She smiled lightly.

"What am I going to wear though?"

Jake chuckled. Mickey looked at her as if she had gone even madder.

"Okay, I get it. I'm calling Sarah-Jane."

"Asking the bird under witness protection for fashion tips. That's my girl!"


	3. 2 Of tea and pouring rain

**Author's note:** We're back with chapter 2 and the beginning of a plot! (Which, clearly, was missing in the first chapter.) As promised on tumblr: Sarah Jane, tea, Loki's scarf and art thief.

I'd like to specify that, even if it's an AU verse, I'm trying to follow the "classic Roski pattern" so the story take place in this verse equivalent of post-Doomsday for Rose. We'll see more about pre-Doomsday later, but you can draw your own little theories about the Doctor from what we know from here (and if theories you have, I'd be more than happy to heard about them!).

Also, I love references and parallels with the real verses so there's lots and lots of references to Doctor Who in this chapter, some obvious, some more hidden. Have fun finding them all! And don't worry, I'll do the same with The Avengers.

As always, reviews are golden. Enjoy!

* * *

"Good seeing you again!"

"Yeah, you too!"

One hand holding garment bags, Rose used her free arm to hug Sarah Jane, a genuine smile on her lips. Things had not always been this easy with the woman – their first meeting was real chaos, jealousy and hair pulling included, not Rose's finest moment – but they had learned to know and like one another. With a nod, Sarah Jane invited her in and closed the door behind them as Rose looked around with curiosity.

She had never been in someone under witness protection's flat before. Without surprise but perhaps a bit of disappointment, she noticed it was just some random flat like thousands of others in London. Four walls, kitchen to the left, living room to the right and two doors in front of her leading to, she easily guessed, the bedroom and the bathroom. She'd lived in the same kind of place during her studies, before being able to afford a higher rent. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough.

What interested Rose, though, was not the flat in itself, but Sarah Jane's belongings. Her big grey dog, Kay, ninth to have that name – Rose didn't really understand why Sarah Jane always called her dogs the same way, but knew better than to ask questions – was sleeping on the kitchen floor. There were framed pictures here and there of her son Luke, now studying at Oxford, and in a corner of the room was a coat stand with a scarf on it, so long Rose could have wrapped it a dozen time around her neck, along with an Inverness cape and – Rose gasped – a long brown coat. She couldn't take her eyes off it.

"I'm sorry." Sarah Jane's voice was soft and concerned. "I always keep token objects, I don't know why. I can move it to my room if you –"

"No, that's okay." Then, after a few seconds, "I still have his glasses."

"The 3D ones?"

Rose couldn't help but snort, especially with Sarah Jane smiling impishly. With that, her moment of emotion was gone and she remembered why she came here in the first place. With an awkward movement of her wrist, Rose held the garment bags in front of her.

"The only dresses I bought were for New Year's Eve parties at the office. But still, I don't know which one to wear tomorrow."

Sarah Jane smiled understandingly. "Don't worry. We're going to find something."

Twenty minutes later, between laughs and fondly sharing memories of the past, they settled on a black dress. Rose faced the large mirror while Sarah Jane, behind her, lightly brushed her shoulders. Both smiled, and they looked at each other in the mirror.

"Keep your hair down, and don't put too much make-up on, it'll do the trick. You don't need to look too fancy, it's just tea."

"Well, it is a fancy place..."

"Those men are used to wealth and extravagance. Trust me, being normal is a great way to catch his eye."

"You seem to be a master on the subject."

Sarah Jane smiled mysteriously. "Not an informer for nothing, you know."

Rose chuckled and they remained silent for a while, as she was still looking at her reflexion in the mirror, head cocked to one side, biting her lip. She wasn't vain enough to say she was beautiful, but she quite liked the way she looked. Hopefully, he'd like it too. That was the whole point, after all - making him like her enough to trust her.

She could feel Sarah Jane's eyes on her, worried and concerned. She sighed lightly, turning around to face the other woman.

"What if the plan works too well?"

She was glad Sarah Jane was clever enough to understand what she was implying. She couldn't find the nerve to say it out loud.

"Remember what I told you the last time we met before the whole... mess?"

"'Some things are worth getting your heart broken.' Not something you can forget that easily."

"And some things are worth breaking hearts too."

* * *

She tried not to look too eagerly around her when she entered the tea room. She noticed tourists, probably here to have a real "English tea experience" as recommended in guidebooks, along with more respectable guests, in suits and beautiful dresses. Her eyes were wandering to the decor when a young waitress welcomed her.

"I'm meeting Mister Odinson."

"Follow me."

She led Rose to the back of the large room, where the tables were replaced by sofas and love seats, a thick – and probably expensive – carpet on the floor. Loki was sitting at one of the coffee tables, which was full of pastries, scones and others sweets. When he noticed her, he immediately stood up, buttoning his vest. He took his time to look her up and down, not even trying to be subtle while doing so, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She did the same, quickly.

He was wearing a black suit, of course. She wasn't familiar enough with that kind of clothes – all the male agents were wearing that at the office, but they were never expensive ones, they weren't paid well enough for that. She guessed Loki's suit was a really expensive one, maybe Westwood. But it wasn't what caught her eyes. Around his neck was a long scarf, green and golden. Rose had the feeling the scarf itself cost more than the suit.

"Miss Baxter," he welcomed her and his voice was honey to her ears. She tried not to focus too much on that. "I don't know your tastes so I took the liberty to order, well, everything on the menu."

She found herself smiling at him. "You shouldn't have. I'm not one to eat a lot."

"You'll change your opinion once you've tasted their scones, believe me."

He motioned to her to sit down next to him and she complied with a smile, smoothing her dress and crossing her legs in a lady-like way. He poured two cups of tea and held one to her. They remained silent for a few minutes, only drinking and eating some pastries. Rose noticed two things: the critics were right about the place's quality, and that silence wasn't awkward at all. It should have been otherwise, especially between two strangers who had met in less than standard circumstances, but she found herself enjoying Loki's presence next to her and the peaceful silence between them. She couldn't explain why. It irritated her.

"Are you going to question me?" she finally asked, two scones and a cup of tea later.

He offered her a mysterious smile while pouring her another cup. "We're a small circle of artists, let's put it that way, here in London. I know everyone and you're not one of them. So, yes, some questions are needed. I'm intrigued."

"Who's to say I'm not part of the gang?"

The look he gave her then clearly showed he knew she wasn't. It amused her as much as it annoyed her. She knew she had to make herself look like a solid asset if she wanted this mission to end well. She knew she only had one option, one card in her game, and yet it was so difficult to say out loud, to really acknowledge who she was, who she used to be...

"I used to be one of the Doctor's companions." She blurted the words so quickly she had to hide her embarrassment behind her cup of tea. He looked at her, half-surprised, half-awestruck, and she mentally thanked him for not commenting on the subject. The Doctor had his reputation, after all.

"Where did you study arts then?" he asked.

"Wimbledon. Painting and photography."

He nodded. "I went to the Royal College."

From then, they made small talk about their school years, sharing fond memories and funniest moments. She told him about her semester studying in Florence while not understanding a single word of Italian. He told her about the pranks he pulled on his teachers on the last day of term. She laughed – a lot more than expected – and he smiled – and his eyes were smiling now, too.

When she looked at her watch, two hours had passed. She realised how much she had enjoyed this afternoon and how late it was. Loki might have seen her checking her watch as he smiled lightly.

"It's been a good afternoon, indeed, but I wouldn't want to take too much of your time."

She couldn't say if he was taking too much of her time or the other way around. She knew better than to ask him. So she just stood up and said goodbye. To her surprise, he walked her outside and hailed a taxi for her. As the black car stopped in front of them, he opened the door and leaned toward her –only then she realised how tall he was – to kiss her on the cheek. His lips on her skin were soft and cold. She felt herself blushing.

"I'll see you around then, Hannah Baxter."

And he left her on the pavement without looking back. It took her all the way to her flat to calm her heartbeat.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, it was raining when Rose got out of the cinema on that Monday evening. She bid goodbye to her friend Shareen, who was already running toward the Underground, and tried to hail a taxi. But all the cabs were already taken, driving by her and splashing her legs. After five minutes, she was about to give up and take the tube when a large umbrella appeared out of nowhere above her head.

She turned around, only to bump into someone's chest. When she looked up, her eyes widened as she recognized the stranger's face. His hair was soaked, falling in front of his eyes – despite the umbrella, part of her brain noticed, and what was wrong with him? Maybe he had opened it just for her – and he was looking at her with amazingly big puppy eyes. She couldn't help but stare back.

"Are you stalking me?" Her voice was only a whisper despite the pouring rain. It was a miracle if he could hear her.

"Of course not. I was just in the neighbourhood..."

She looked around her – a seedy pub to her left, a Shawarma place to her right, not the kind of place where he could casually spend time – then looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. He only shrugged, not even bothering to look guilty.

"I needed to talk to you."

"You have my number, couldn't you just call?"

"It's not something to talk about over the phone, I'm afraid."

Her eyebrow rose even higher. He took a photograph out of his pocket and showed it to her. It was a woman, probably in her late twenties, with red hair and an emotionless look on her face. Rose recognized her in a second, for she had studied this woman during her training as an agent.

"Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow."

He nodded. "She's rumoured to have something really valuable in her possession. A Fabergé egg."

"And you want to steal it."

"I want you to steal it."

Her eyes widened as she looked back at his face. He was dead serious, stoned-face. It was no longer Loki, charmer of ladies and perfect gentleman. It was the conman in front of her.

"One does not nickname her the 'Black Widow' for nothing, you know. It is said the only man she trusts and will never kill is her bodyguard. And I quite like living. So..."

"So it's not a job for a man. I get it." There was a silence. "Okay, I'm in."

He nodded again and put the picture back into his pocket. Then, out of nowhere, he made her hold the umbrella. She complied without a word, already knowing best than to ask questions with him. In graceful movements, he took the scarf from his neck to put it around hers and played with the fabric. Then, slowly, he pulled on both sides of the scarf, enough to move Rose closer to him, until their nose almost touched. She could feel his breath again her skin, could feel his eyes staring deep into hers.

She couldn't tell how long they remained like that, not moving, not talking. Once again, it was everything but unsettling. It was, strangely, becoming a habit.

"Partners, then." His voice was only a purr and it made her shiver. "I'll see you soon."

And he left. That was becoming a habit too. She only noticed he had left her the umbrella and scarf when he was out of sight. Maybe he had done it on purpose. Shrugging, she hailed a taxi.

When she was in the car, she took her phone and made a call.

"Dad? It's me. Phase two has begun."


	4. 3 Of sport car and charity

**Author's note:** If you follow me on Tumblr, you probably know what's coming: lots of pretty ladies in this chapter! And I can't even begin to describe how delightful it was to write Sif (and, yes, we'll learn more about her when we'll learn more about Loki, pinky swear).

Thanks for the feedbacks, I'm glad you like it! And I'd like to precise, if you hadn't already noticed, that I write everything in British-English so, please, don't tell me I do spelling mistakes when I don't spell things the American way. Especially since Sam is doing such a great work at beta-reading it and I strongly believe she wouldn't keep such mistakes (also, Sam, thanks again for your amazing job.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Things will get faster now in term of action. Romance will come soon.

* * *

"Just put some casual clothes on," he had said. Standing in front of her open wardrobe, she realised she had no idea what 'casual' meant to him, because he had been wearing elegant suits every time they'd met. She didn't want him to think she couldn't afford nice clothing, but she didn't want to be overdressed, either. And, since when was she so self-conscious about the way she looked? That fact bothered her more than anything else.

With a heavy sigh, she grabbed a pair of jeans and the dullest white tee-shirt she owned, and ran for the bathroom. It had been two weeks since their meeting in the rain, and he had finally called her an hour earlier. She had managed to stay as relaxed as possible while talking to him over the phone, but inside she was jumping up and down. Not that she wasn't excited to see him again – she was looking forward to seeing him, and she still needed to give him back his scarf – but she was mostly just utterly bored.

Undercover agents were not allowed to work on other cases – for the sake of their cover, of course – so she had spent the last couple of weeks watching reruns of Whose Line? and cursing con men who played with her nerves. His phone call was a blessing for her sanity.

When she finally got out of her flat, it was to find an elegant black sports car parked in front of her building, an elegant black-haired woman behind the wheel. The woman caught sight of Rose and, with a perfectly bored face, motioned to her to get in the car. Confused, Rose looked around her, just in case there was someone else behind her, which seemed to bore the woman. She nodded to Rose once more, and the blonde hurried to get in the car, feeling that making the stranger wait was not the best of ideas.

At least five minutes passed, in the most tense silence Rose had ever experienced, before the brunette finally decided to speak. "I'm taking you to Loki's."

If Rose expected a proper introduction or some girly chat, she was now sure it wasn't going to happen. The other woman didn't look like the kind to have girly chats anyway.

"Thanks for stating the obvious. I could have taken a cab or the tube, you know." It only made the brunette smirk. "Are you his assistant?"

"I work with Loki, not for him." She chuckled. "Con artists always work for themselves, you should know that. We never let someone else take credit for our art. Plus, to be honest, Loki would work for me. Not the other way around."

At those words, Rose scrutinized her. She already knew the obvious – elegant woman with dark hair – but took her time on details, such as her bulging muscles, the confidence in her eyes and the way her face look both gentle and strict. She was the kind of woman who was able to show herself as vulnerable only to kick your arse five seconds later. Rose had no doubt she could defeat Loki in a heartbeat if she wanted to.

"But if you don't work for him, why are you my driver?"

"Because I get the car." She no longer hid her smile now. "Every time I agree to be his chauffeur, he lends me the car for the day. So I drive around town trying to get as many tickets as possible. That's good fun."

"Nice." Rose was grinning back now.

"I'm Sif, by the way. Nice to meet you." She held her hand out to shake Rose's, her eyes not leaving the road. Rose realised she had never heard that name before, not even once. In white-collar crime, no reputation was the best of reputation. She had no doubt Sif was very good at her job then.

"So... Have you known Loki for long?"

"From the cradle, actually. He cut my hair short when we were fourteen, we've had a bond ever since."

"He cut your hair?"

"Long story, jealousy between brothers and everything. Not the kind to tell during a first meeting."

Rose knew the conversation ended here. She didn't mind, even if she was curious about all the little glimpses of the past Sif just gave her. A brother, family issues and a childhood friend who was also working for the dark side. Yes, she was dead curious about the whole story. Maybe he'd tell her everything one day, if she managed to gain enough of his trust.

Both women remained silent for a while before Rose remembered she was actually a cop, not a crook making friend with one of her kind. She could kill two birds with one stone. "What's your field then?"

She could swear she saw Sif hopping on her seat as she started listing all the things she was good at. Not that surprisingly, the list was long.

* * *

"... Bond forgery, fake ID – I'm the best at making fake Australian passports, I don't know why. Well, and identity fraud, but everyone knows how to do that, so it's not that impressive. Oh, and once I stole a fob watch at the British Museum for fun, but nobody noticed so I put it back a few hours later."

"You burgled the British Museum?!" Rose didn't even try to hide her surprise. Her eyes opened even wider when Sif only shrugged.

"To be fair I wanted to steal the Rosetta Stone. But nobody warned me it was so big. So I took something shiny instead." She laughed. "Oh, and here we are."

She parked the car by the side of the road and giggled when she saw Rose was still looking at her, startled. She shrugged happily and got out of the car. Shaking her head, Rose followed her and remembered she had to focus. She glanced at the building – some really posh block of flats, how surprising – then back as Sif. Was the brunette coming with her? She wasn't sure, but Loki hadn't stated it'd only be the two of them. Maybe Sif saw her confusion because she added:

"The doorman, Heimdall, he doesn't know you. He won't let you enter if I'm not with you."

And, with that, she went to greet said doorman. Rose quickly followed her and found herself introduced as "one of Mister Odinson's partners". She knew better than to ask to which extent she actually was a partner, and was sure she didn't want the answer to that question anyway. Sif then turned around to look at her, all smiles and happy eyes.

"You take the lift, last floor. Have fun!" There was something in her smile Rose related to the use of 'partner'. She felt herself blushing. "It was great meeting you. Not enough girls among us, it's nice not being surrounded by testosterone! And I have a feeling we'll see each other soon anyway."

She quickly hugged Rose, then jogged to the car. In less than thirty seconds she was gone. Yes, Rose thought, definitely something all con men had in common. With a shake of her head, she finally entered the building – the doorman didn't even blink as she passed by him. She realised, as she entered the lift, it was one of those blocks where one floor meant one flat. London's upper class at its finest.

When the lift doors opened, she hesitated for a second before moving forward. She looked around her, cursing her curiosity. It wasn't even a flat. It was a penthouse, a huge expensive penthouse with a view of Big Ben. The view took her breath away. The whole place was decorated as if it came right out of an Ikea catalogue - not homey in the slightest.

As she was inspecting everything around her, from the books on the shelves to the obvious lack of personal objects, he appeared next to her. "Glad to see the Amazon didn't scare you off."

"More about cutting off the hair instead of the breast."

With a snigger, he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek in greeting. She smiled back, tongue poking between her teeth, but quickly became serious again as she looked at him.

"I thought you said casual clothes?"

He looked down at what he was wearing – black trousers, white shirt, black waistcoat, and even a tie – then back at her with an eye raised, as if he didn't understand what she meant. Maybe he really didn't, she thought, maybe that was 'casual' for him. It hardly surprised her.

"Why am I here anyway?" she asked, and her voice was already softer as curiosity was back.

"Today, Hannah Baxter, we're going to learn how to break into a vault!"

* * *

What was supposed to be a serious and really technical workshop quickly drifted into art theft summer camp. No matter how patient Loki was with her, explaining the right things to do, the right movements to make, she always ended embarrassing herself in front of the safe she had to unlock. He had started by lightly mocking her but, after a good hour of unsuccessful attempts, really laughed at her face. And, to her own surprise, she laughed too. Actually she was enjoying herself more than expected, thanks to Loki's wit and sense of humour.

"Are – are you serious?" she blurted out between fits of laughter.

"Dead serious. Some vault have heat sensors, it's the only way to pass through it."

"By rubbing your hands against ice?"

"Well, of course!"

He tried to remain serious but burst into laughter a few seconds later and got himself a punch in the stomach, which only made him laugh even more. Rose tried to look offended but her giggles quickly followed. Then, out of nowhere, he took her in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. Her laughs faded away as she put both hands on his chest and looked up at him with big doe eyes. She saw his Adam's apple moving up and down, but he didn't move, and they stayed in that position for a long moment. Only when she noticed him gazing at her mouth did she decide to go back to the subject.

"So..." she whispered, and her voice sounded more seductive than expected. "How am I supposed to enter this safe room anyway?"

"We could try to win Miss Romanoff's trust but, let's face it, it'd take you years. If we're lucky. So just being an acquaintance will be a good start. She throws a charity event next week, you'll start with that. You being a wealthy woman ready to give your money to charity, of course."

"Of course", she repeated with a smile.

"You make sure she notices you during that evening and, if we're lucky, she'll invite you to another party, in her house this time. And that's when we'll operate."

"We?"

"Well, sorry to break it to you, but you're really bad at unlocking vaults so you'll need me for that. But don't worry, we'll need you for the passes and key to open the safe room. So we'll start training for pickpocketing tomorrow."

"Who said I needed training?" she answered with that smile of hers.

She held her hand between them, showing the wallet she was carrying between two fingers. He stepped back – and only then did she realise she had stayed in his arms during the whole conversation – and put a hand to his pocket with a smile. He then stared at her with pride in his eyes. It made her blush and look away.

"We're gaining time then. Now, next week's party. You'll need a man at your arm, Miss Baxter."

She swore he could not seem more delighted at the idea than he already was.

* * *

She had spent hours on the phone with Sarah Jane for advice – again – and her nerves were running high. The week had flown by faster than expected between the attempts at cracking the safe – all failures, of course, and Loki had said she was simply not meant for that, it happened all the time and she had to find what she was the best at – and pickpocketing Loki and Sif for hours. The two women had then spent a whole day shopping for a dress with Loki's credit card, which Sif had used more than she probably was expected to, but he hadn't blinked when she had given him the card back, tons of bags full of clothes in her hands.

And now here she was, in an expensive dress with never ending heels on her feet, sitting next to Loki in a limosine. She was far too busy inspecting the fake passport Loki had made for her – a real proper fake passport made by a real proper conman, and not one of those made by policemen, it thrilled her more than she wanted to admit – to really pay attention to the limo in itself or to Loki's more than neat suit. She had kept his scarf in her bag for days, forgetting to give it back, and he was now sporting a new one, as expensive and beautiful as the first.

"Don't worry, it's going to be okay." He stopped and smiled at her. "You're going to be perfect."

And, indeed, perfect she was.

She'd gone from person to person, chatting and smiling, Loki at her arm. And, of course, she had made sure to sign a really generous check for Natasha Romanoff's charity. It didn't go unnoticed as, after less than an hour, Natasha herself came to greet Rose. Loki winked at her, hiding a smile. Everything was running smoothly according to their plan.

"I couldn't help but acknowledge your generosity. Many children in Russia will be thankful, Miss...?"

"Crosby. Alison Crosby. And it's the least I can do, of course." She motioned to Loki, who handed to the redhead the bottle he was carrying. "I've heart you're more of a fan of vodka than you are of wine, so I thought it'd be an appropriate gift."

Natasha thanked her, her eyes not leaving Loki as she asked one of the waiters to take the bottle. Rose faked suddenly remembering his presence next to her.

"Oh and here's Magnus Martinsson, my... boyfriend." She made sure to hesitate on her word with a secretive smile to Natasha. "The trophy kind of boyfriend, you know."

She couldn't tell if Loki's shocked look was genuine or not, and she only answered by raising her eyebrows as if daring him to contradict her. He opened his mouth but no word came out of it, and he turned around with what looked like resignation. It only made the Russian woman laugh.

"Oh, I know that. I have one myself..."

Natasha's eyes drifted and so did Rose's, both lightly laughing. But, for a mere second, as she was looking at who Loki described as Natasha's bodyguard, Rose's lips twitched. She thanked her professionalism, and maybe the few classes of theatre she took in college, for not reacting much at the sight of said bodyguard. She reached for Loki and tapped on his arm to get her attention.

"If you'd excuse us for a minute", she said to Natasha.

She gripped Loki by the wrist and took him away from their host, making sure not to be heard by anyone. He looked at her with surprise, knowing than everything was perfection until that moment and not understanding what happened to her for such a reaction.

"What's going on?"

"We have a problem. A big fucking enormous problem."

He moved closer to her and put a lock of blonde hair behind her ear in hope it would calm her a bit. It only made things even worse.

"I didn't know about Natasha or I would have told you from the beginning, I swear. I really didn't know. But her bodyguard... He..."

"Shush, calm down, Hannah. What's about him?"

"He's Clint Barton. He's Interpol."

* * *

tintintin

Please, reviews are a nice ego-boosting!


	5. 4 Of Interpol and guns

**Author's note:** Once again, thanks for the feedbacks and a special thank to Sam for her work as my beta. I feel the need to explain two things before this chapter, as it seems important to the theft plot.

Interpol, while literally meaning 'International Police' isn't actually one. It's an international organisation helping local polices. Interpol agents don't arrest people by themselves and there aren't Interpol jails. They're more of a big international database helping countries with international issues. And, of course, white collar crime is one of the fields of Interpol.

As for the Fabergé Eggs, they were all created for the Emperors of Russia and so belong to the country. Out of the 60 eggs, some of them got lost after the Russian Revolution while the others mostly are in Russian Museums or were sold to other countries. If one of the lost eggs were found, it would go straight back to Russia. One of the eggs was sold at auction for almost $10 millions so one can easily understand why a con man like Loki would want to steal it. As for why Natasha has one of the lost eggs in the first place... She's a Romanova, after all. (But it'll be explain in the next chapter.)

That was the historical point of the day. Now, enjoy your reading!

* * *

She couldn't tell what was worse: her own near-hysterical reaction or Loki's lack of one. He seemed confident, untouched by what she had just told him, as if none of this was important to him. He just glanced at Clint Barton for a second – maybe hoping he could read "Interpol agent" written in big red letters on the man's forehead – then looked back at Rose and lightly caressed her cheek. It was so unreal, his was trying to calm her down when he was supposed to be the one freaking out. Well, if Rose was honest with herself, the most unreal thing of all was her reaction. She was a cop, for God's sake, Interpol was supposed to be good news. Maybe they'd help her catch Loki. So why didn't she like that idea? Why did she feel the need to protect Loki from them?

Sif's words came back to her mind then. Con men never let someone else take the credit for their work. She probably had the same kind of reaction, wanting to catch Loki all by herself, to put him in jail without help from anyone. Yes, she tried to convince herself, yes, it was all about pride. Of course. As if it could be something else.

"How do you know?"

His words brought her back to reality. She slightly shook her head to get rid of her disturbing thoughts and looked at him.

"I just know. Trust me, I know."

He seemed to hesitate, but refrained from asking more questions on the matter and only nodded. Rose's eyes widened. He trusted her. It was almost too beautiful to be true.

"It doesn't matter. We keep going according to the plan."

"Are you mad? I just told you they're Interpol!"

"Yes, and she owns one of the Fabergé Eggs. She won't complain about the thief of something she isn't supposed to have in the first place. It's perfect for us, believe me."

"You're bonkers."

"Are you in or are you out?"

There was something in his eyes that told Rose she didn't really have a choice. If she decided to stop it now, she wouldn't have a second chance with him and wouldn't be able to do her job. And maybe it was the ice in his eyes, maybe it was her own ego speaking, but she glared back at him, and they remained in this silent battle for longer that they probably should have. He had been so nice and sweet since the first day she had almost forgotten his reputation of a cold heartless con man. And it wasn't the gentleman she was facing right now, that was for sure. The way he looked at her, a mix of fury and power, was sending chills of fear down her spine. Was it really fear? She blinked in a attempt not to let her thoughts drift again.

"What do I do?"

"You kiss me."

And they drifted again.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Romanoff probably thinks we're fighting right now, so you kiss me to pretend it's the end of a lover's quarrel then you go back to her and make friends."

"I have a better idea." She offered him a quick grin and, for the first time, she saw panic in his eyes. Oh, he had asked for it anyway. "You jerk!"

If her yell hadn't been enough to attract people's attention on them, the sound of the slap she gave him definitely was. She even heard some women gasping and, as Loki put a hand to his cheek, she turned around to go back to Natasha. She couldn't stop laughing inside. Sometimes, she really loved her job.

"Are you okay?" The concern in Natasha's eyes was unexpected but Rose only gave her a nod as an answer, playing the shock card. "Come with me, we'll talk in private."

With a last glance at Loki, who was now purposely ignoring her, Rose followed the redhead in the room next door. It was a small office, all wood and leather, with only a desk and two chairs. Clint Barton, silent as a ghost, entered the room after them and closed the door, all the while Natasha was rummaging through a stack of papers. She took one in particular.

"So." She looked at the sheet then at Rose, as to make sure her face corresponded to whatever was written there. "Rose Tyler. SIS."

"Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, Interpol." She had felt the need to answer that, even if it wasn't needed. Maybe the will to show she knew who she was dealing with. It made Natasha smile.

"Fabergé Egg?" she asked, stating the obvious.

Rose nodded, giving more details : "During a private party at yours'."

"We could join forces to be more effective."

"What if I don't want your help?"

Clint snorted behind her. She turned around to look at him, an eyebrow raised. His face was so emotionless, as in a constant state of boredom, that it startled her. She had never worked with Interpol before. If they were all like Clint Barton, cold and fathomless, she was sure she never wanted to work with them at all.

"You're young", he stated. "You think you can do everything by yourself and be Wonder Woman. But truth is, you can't. We're here to help, not to rain on your parade. It's our job to make things easiest for you, so we will. And you'll be the one to handcuff him, if it's really that important to you."

Rose glanced at Natasha, who only nodded with a small smile, as if to reassure her. "I'm throwing a party in three weeks. Both your names will be on the guest list."

"No. Just mine."

Natasha's smile grew bigger. "Now we're talking."

* * *

Rose and Natasha had come out of the room laughing and joking together, perfectly in character, Clint following them without a word. Rose had then gone back to Loki, who was still brooding. She had smiled to him, managed to give him her most tender look, and said "let's get out of here." They hadn't spoken in the limousine, nor did they in the lift to Loki's flat. He invited her to make herself at home and she was happy to oblige.

She collapsed in one of the couches, the one facing the picture window, and took off her heels with a sigh of relief. When Loki sat next to her, she noticed he no longer had his jacket and tie. He stretched an arm on the back of the couch behind her, which she saw as an invitation to cuddle up against him. As she nuzzled against his chest, his arm went around her shoulders. His other hand was gently fondling her ankle.

"Never slap me again", he whispered after a moment. She giggled. "I'm serious."

"Right from the cheek to the ego."

He pinched her enough to make her jump but not to hurt her and her giggles doubled. They remained like that for a while, just enjoying the view and each other's presence.

"I'm invited to Natasha's birthday party in three weeks, by the way. Thought you'd like to know."

"What a gift we'll give her!" He chuckled and looked down at her. "Did anyone ever tell you how perfect you are, Hannah Baxter?"

"Yeah, me, every morning when I look at myself in the mirror."

As she offered him one of her teeth-against-tongue smile, he promptly stared at her lips. She couldn't help be do the same, mesmerized by his green eyes. She realised what they were about to do as his lips were brushing against hers and she jumped to her feet, looking at anything and everything but him.

"It's getting late. I – hem – I should probably go home."

She took her shoes and purse and ran for the lift, not giving him a chance to answer. When the doors closed in front of her, she put her face in her hands and let out a long whimper. She had been about to let him kiss her, she knew it. She wouldn't have mind it at all and that why she couldn't let that happen, she couldn't let things grow more complicated than they already were. Juggling between three different identities was already hard enough for her, she couldn't let her feelings come in the way.

At this though, she moaned again. Her feelings. Because she couldn't lie to herself anymore, those feeling were real now, even if they were weak. It was those feelings that made her tell Loki about Interpol, those feelings that influenced her to protect him instead of properly doing her work. She didn't know how it had happened, she didn't understand how she could have possibly allowed it. And she knew it wasn't one-way feelings. She had seen it in his eyes when he was about to kiss her. It only made things even worse than they already were.

Some things were worth getting your heart broken.

She no longer was sure about that.

* * *

The gunshots would have startled her if it wasn't for her training. Rose was holding her own gun and ready to shoot when the six balls were fired. She turned her head to see Sif, who blew on the tip of the gun, spinning it around her finger like a cowgirl in a western. She grinned at Rose as if she was having the time of her life. Maybe she actually was, as it had been her idea to spend time at the shooting range for some "quality time between girls". If the whole thing annoyed Rose, she managed not to show it. Of course Sif would be good with a weapon, Sif was always good at everything. It was even more irritating that she never bragged about her skills. Rose always felt herself mediocre next to the beautiful brunette.

With a deep breath, Rose turned her concentration back to her target and shot. All her bullets went straight to the head of the cardboard figure.

"Something wrong, Hannah?"

She turned back to Sif, a look of surprise and confusion on her face, as she was removing her hearing and eyes protections. She shook her head to make obvious to her friend she had no idea what she was talking about.

"You've been on the edge ever since you and Loki came back from Romanoff's party. Is it about the whole Interpol thing? Because I've been there before and, trust me, it doesn't –"

"No, it's not that." She took a break to unload her gun. Sif did the same. "Has he – did he ever - has he dated someone before? I know about the whole 'Casanova' thing but has he ever shown real interest in someone?"

Hands buried in her pockets and her shoulders hunched a bit, Sif turned around to face Rose, her lips pursed in a sorry yet slightly amused way. Rose first frowned at her, but her expression quickly changed to surprise, her lips forming a silent 'oh' as she understood what Sif was implying. The brunette only shrugged.

"Nice. 'Cause I can obviously compete with you. It's good to know this whole thing is only platonic for him."

"Oh come on, Hannah! It was a long time ago, we were only children back then."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

Sif seemed to really think about it. "Maybe not. But that probably will: I've never seen him date anyone. Ever. The fool still believe in love at first sight, soul mates, and all that crap people invented for little girls to believe in their prince charming. He's just that kind of a man, you know."

Even if Sif's smile and words were meant to be reassuring, it only made things worse for Rose. A little crush, she could handle easily. The whole "you're the love of my life, let's get married in front of a barn on a spring day?" Not so much. Especially not when the guy in question wasn't even aware of her real name – or of her real job, for all it mattered. Of course charming him had been part of the plan since day one, but never had she expected things to grown on such a large scale.

"This isn't helping, is it?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Well, kill some more paper guys, then."

It took Rose less than thirty seconds to put her protective gear back in position, load her gun, and shoot. She saw more than heard Sif laughing next to her. Indeed, it helped.

* * *

Reviews help Loki staying out of jail. Think about it!


	6. 5 Of plans and Catwoman

**Author's note:** Once again, thanks to Sam for the beta-reading and to everyone for the feedbacks!

Nothing mu to say about this chapter, except that's it's all based on flash-back/forwards. Also, I'm going back to the university this week (finally!) but I'll try to keep the fic as active as possible, don't worry.

* * *

They tiptoed around each other until Natasha Romanoff's birthday party, neither of them wanting to be the first to talk about Rose's mood. It made them work harder and faster, rehearsing every move, every step of their con over and over again. It took them less than four days to be ready. And still, day after day, she'd come at his flat to work with him. They didn't speak much, pretending to be too focused on their task for that, but she quickly realised they didn't need too. A glance was more than enough to understand one another in most cases. It disturbed her at first, but she got used to it. What she didn't get used to, though, was Sif's little smile every time she'd come to the flat to see how things were going. She looked like a proud mum in an American TV show, watching her shy geeky son going to prom with the popular cheerleader he'd dreamed about for months. It disturbed Rose to no end.

Thankfully for her, the day of Natasha's party finally arrived, and, soon enough, she would no longer have to worry about Loki – for he would be in prison – or Sif – for she would no longer be part of her life. The cop in her found that satisfactory enough to forget about the fact she would actually miss them and that fake life she had created for herself. But she knew she couldn't let herself overwhelmed by those thoughts.

He had bought her yet a new dress for the occasion, something long, red, and showing too much of cleavage for such an event – but who was she to complain, he was the first man in a long time to actually offer her things. And, as she was getting ready in his flat, he zipped her dress from behind, his cold fingers brushing her skin and making her shiver. She smiled at him and finished to put her make-up on, then raised an eyebrow, silently asking what he thought. He looked her up and down then smiled back and nodded.

"You look lovely as ever. Care to go over our plan one more time?"

She closed her eyes to focus, even if she knew everything by heart. "I go to the party and speak with people as a normal guest would do, not drawing any attention to myself..."

* * *

The party was honestly incredible, and Rose had no doubt Natasha's false identity helped in organizing the event, and having so many guests gathered in a room – Rose had passed by London's mayor as she arrived, and she was sure that woman in a velvet dress was a member of the Red mafia. All guests were doing a pretty good job of ignoring everybody else's identity, and she knew it was only to stay on Natasha's good side. Rose wondered how influential the Russian woman actually was.

But at the moment, she didn't have the time to think about Natasha Romanoff's power. A glass of champagne in her hand, she was talking with a certain Maria Hill. It hadn't taken her long to understand Maria was part of Interpol, and really high in the hierarchy too. She wondered for a second if Maria knew who she actually was, but quickly dismissed this idea – after all, she was only one more nobody working for the British government.

Both women were talking and laughing at some anecdotes about Boston Maria was telling, when Natasha joined them with a grin on her face.

* * *

Loki nodded. "Natasha will then come to talk to you."

"I give her the birthday gift and compliment her on the party. We talk a bit then I start preparing the diversion with the smoke devices."

He gave her four objects that looked like lipstick tubes, and she put them into her little purse. "Don't forget to hide them at the four corners of the room so the smoke will be everywhere. You don't want a smokeless spot, it could turn to your disadvantage."

"I then activate them with the little remote. Everybody will freak out and Clint Barton will come to make sure Natasha Romanoff is okay. It will be my opportunity to steal his keys and electronic pass."

* * *

"Alison!"

Natasha's call was a little too loud and too high-pitched to sound natural but Rose pretended not to notice. Nothing in her life had been real in the last couple of months, she didn't mind her friendship with Natasha being one more lie. The redhead took her into her arms, hugging a little too tightly, and Rose was breathless for a second before laughing and hugging her back. When Natasha stood back, she gave Maria Hill a respectful nod.

"I'm glad to see you, Maria. Isn't Phil with you?"

"No, and he apologizes for that. Stark and Banner almost blew the bureau in New York while 'doing science'. He had to go and take care of their mess."

Rose looked between Maria Hill, who was rolling her eyes with exasperation, and Natasha, who was smirking, having no idea what – or most likely who – the two women were talking about. Natasha seemed to notice as she apologized to the other woman and, taking Rose by the arm, went to a more quiet part of the room.

"I have a birthday gift for you, do you want it?"

Natasha chuckled. "I'll be fine. How much time do you need?"

"Half an hour would be perfect. And I need to smoke out the room."

"Oh, give me the things, I'll take care of that. Clint has everything you need, go see him. He'll set off the alarm."

There was something in Natasha's eyes, a flicker that made Rose giggle. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Natasha nodded enthusiastically. "Conning the con man. I love that!"

Rose laughed and gave her the smoke devices then headed for Clint. With his usual impassive face, he slipped the keys into her hand and showed her the way with a little gesture of his head. She thanked him with a smile. As she sneaked into another room, she heard four little detonations followed by guests' screams. The whole was quickly covered by the sound of the alarm.

* * *

"You make your way to Romanoff's vault room. I'll be waiting outside so you'll have to make sure –"

"... There's no alarm on the window. If there is, I cut them off and I open the window for you." She offered him her signature grin, making him smirk.

"I open the vault, take the egg, we leave by the back door. And tomorrow you, my dear, will be the richest woman in this country."

"Even richer than J.K.?"

He rolled his eye and chuckled.

* * *

She felt a bit like Catwoman, in that long hallway, silently tiptoeing to the vault room, glancing over her shoulder every ten seconds. She knew nobody would follow her, she knew she was safe. And yet, she couldn't ignore the thrill of the moment, the impression she was doing something bad. She hadn't felt that alive in years. Adrenaline in her veins made her forget it was not necessarily a good thing.

She took a pair of leather gloves out of her purse and put them on. A few more steps and she was standing in front of the first door. With one last glance behind her, she opened the door with one of the keys Clint had given her and closed it behind her, making sure not to make a noise. At least she knew she could switch to being a spy one day. The idea made her smile for a second, but she quickly refocused on her task.

She looked at the room around her, a luxurious office, and wondered for a second if the vault room was hidden behind a bookcase or a tapestry. But she quickly noticed another door, the one she had to open with the electronic pass. She unlocked it with a little "bip" and, with a sigh, entered the vault room.

"Okay, Rose," she whispered to herself. "You're about to arrest one of the biggest thieves of the country. No big deal. Probably the most important day of your career. And not like you care 'bout the guy or something. Breathe, chill out."

She rolled her shoulders and cracked her joints as she walked to the window. Something told her that Natasha had deactivated all the alarms in the house but Rose knew she had to check anyway. Her fingers ran against the window frame, searching for something, anything. She finally found it and, after a round-trip to the nearby office to grab a chair she stood on, managed to turn the alarm down. Putting the chair aside, she carefully opened the window, wincing as she expected something bad to happen. But nothing did, and she leaned out of the window.

"Loki." Her voice was barely more than a hiss. "Loki!"

She heard noises coming from the bushes and...

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so that I may climb the golden stair."

"You're not funny!"

He laughed, and before she could even understand what was happening, he surprised her by jumping on the window ledge. Huddling like this and grinning at her, he looked like a cat – no, she thought, like the Cheshire cat. He had smiled a lot to her before, but this grin was different. Loki too felt more alive than ever tonight, as he was ready to commit a crime. His whole body exuded happiness.

With catlike movements, he climbed down from the ledge and stood in front of her. Against her wishes, she bit her lip. He was all in black, from his trousers to his gloves, and it only enhanced his frame. But what really caught Rose's eyes was his jacket, in leather, studded on the shoulders and the chest. She suddenly understood why all her girl friends were into the bad boys back in high school. He looked... hot.

While she was inspecting him, he was inspecting the room, focused on nothing else but the job. He finally noticed she was staring at him and smiled at her.

"Did someone remind you today how perfect you are, Miss Baxter?"

Before she could answer, his lips crashed against hers.

* * *

Reviews help Loki stealing the egg and Rose's heart!


	7. 6 Of kiss and thief

**Author's note:** This chapter is a little shorter than usual, I didn't want to make it too long as lots of things happen but everything happens quickly. I won't say much about it, just enjoy it!

* * *

It wasn't what she had expected. A tiny part of her mind, the rational part, reminded her that she shouldn't have expected anything at all, that it shouldn't have been a possible option. Kissing Loki Odinson wasn't something that should have happened. And yet...

It wasn't what she had expected. It's wasn't fiery, wasn't the 'up against the wall' kind, wasn't ardent. It wasn't one of this kisses you see in Hollywood films, with the right lighting, the right soundtrack, the right everything. And yet...

Yet it was the most mind-blowing kiss ever.

Even if he had pounced on her like a cat on a mouse – hence the high expectations, not that she had thought about it before, of course not, she was too professional for that –, it was only to take her chin between two fingers and brush her lips with his. There was so much gentleness, so much tenderness in this kiss that it surprised her. She had never seen that part of his nature and couldn't help but find him even more attractive that way.

When he was sure she wouldn't push him away, he let go of her chin. One of his hands ended in her hair, carelessly messing with her sophisticated bun, while his other hand grabbed her by the waist. It was all she needed to sink into his arms. Her breasts pressed again his chest, and she kissed him with ardour, her hands not knowing if it was best to play with his hair or to rest on his shoulders.

When they finally pulled away, eyes closed and gasping for air, he leaned his forehead against hers as his hands were drawing circles against her shoulders. She only then realised her hair was hanging loosely on the back of her neck, the studs of his jackets were painful against the bare skin of her shoulders and, most of all, they were in the middle of Natasha Romanoff's vault room. Ironically, Loki didn't seem to notice all those minor details – especially not the last one.

"Hannah, I—"

"No Loki, we can't—"

"But it's important. I need to tell you. I—"

"More important than the fact we're in the middle of a con?"

He raised his head and looked around him, unable to scratch surprise from his face. His lips formed a silent 'oh', which made her smile, before looking back at her. He lightly shrugged, as if nothing important had just happened, as if he hadn't been about to tell her something. In less than a second, his business face was back. There was no place for anything but the job here.

"I'll tell you later", he whispered, putting her hair behind her ear. "Go be on the lookout while I open the safe, all right?"

She only nodded then slowly stepped back, not trusting her wobbly legs at that moment – and damn it, Rose, it was only a kiss and not even her first one, she had to get a grip on herself! As she opened the door, she decided she didn't need to leave the room, knowing no one would come after them anyway, especially when she could do something far more interesting: watching him.

She knew how to crack a safe, at least theoretically, but watching him was fascinating. There was no wasted movement, no instant of doubt, as he worked methodically. His whole body shone with confidence, from the frown of his brows to his longs fingers running against the safe. The room was silent, if it wasn't for the 'tick tick' of the combination lock as he was trying to open it, ear against the door. She was peeking by the half-opened door when she clearly heard a more distinct 'tick', followed by Loki's victorious laugh. She turned around and ran to him, excited.

"Did you make it?"

"Not London's best trickster for nothing!"

He slowly opened the door, letting the Egg shine as sun rays fell on it, enlightening their faces. They remained still for a while, bent over the vault, only able to admire the piece of art in front of them. Rose knew next to nothing about those eggs, only that they were shiny and expensive, but it didn't stop her from being amazed by it, by all the little engravings on the golden shell, by the gems and pearls. She could easily understand why those things cost an arm and a leg and why Loki wanted to steal it in the first place; she wouldn't have minded having it on her mantelpiece.

She didn't know how long they stayed like this, just looking at the egg, but Loki suddenly stood up and cracked his joints, which made her wince. He was cracking his spine, his arms stretched behind him, when she stood up to, and he grinned at her with that smile she knew too well, for it was on all criminals' lips.

"All right, Hannah Baxter! Let's steal this thing!"

She couldn't help but grin back, her tongue poking between her teeth. She only noticed then that he was carrying a backpack, its single strap across his chest, as he took it and roughly dropped it on the floor. He kneeled down, opened the bag and, with cautious gestures, took the egg to put it in the bag. At first, nothing happened, which made him smirk as he zipping it shut. But, when he stood up and put the rucksack back on his shoulder, a piercing alarm set off. They exchanged a look, panic on their faces.

"Window!" he shouted, already heading to it.

"I can't! I'm wearing a dress!"

She heard him swear as he came back to her and showed her the door with his chin. She understood in a heartbeat but took the time to take out her high heels before following him. It didn't take them long, running like maniacs, to find the back door. Loki rushed toward it but, as he violently and repeatedly tried to open it, he swore once again. Before she could understand what was happening, Rose found herself with the bag in her hands, Loki frenetically looking in the pockets – probably looking for something to help him unlock the door, she managed to register. And it was indeed the case, as he grabbed a little box full of lock picking tools.

"Hurry up!" she almost yelled.

"I'm trying!"

She could hear the clicking of his tools against the lock, the alarm still going off, but also footsteps coming toward them. When he finally managed to open the door, so many things happened at once, mixing up in Rose's head.

Loki jumped outside like a cat after being thrown in a bathtub. Natasha, Clint, and Maria appeared at the corner of the hallway, a gun pointed at them in Natasha's hands. On the other side of the door, a squad was already waiting for them, Mickey and Jake first in line. Noticing he was surrounded, Loki frantically glanced around him, looking for an escape, for anything that could help him out of this situation. But, as his eyes dwelt on Rose, they suddenly opened wide and he froze. He didn't even react when Maria caught him by the arms and handcuffed him. He didn't move when she shouted "Loki Odinson, you're under arrest!" Rose followed his eyes, only to see she still had the bag in her arms, clenched against her chest. Her eyes went as wide as Loki's.

"Oh, shit!"

He only smirked.

* * *

Review always make my day!


	8. 7 Of trickster and defender

**Author's note:** Two chapters in a week, wooooh! As people following on Tumblr might already know, this one is written from Loki's point of view so I'm excited about what you're going to think about it.

Have fun with their cat and mouse game!

* * *

He didn't know how long he had been there. He had lost track of time after the first hour, but it had to be three or four in the morning now. It was hard to tell, locked in a windowless room with such a bright light above his head. He hadn't moved, even if he wasn't handcuffed to the table, even if he could stand up if he wanted. He wouldn't please them by pacing like a lion in a cage; he knew how to be patient, after all. So he stayed in his chair, his legs stretched and crossed under the table, his arms folded again his chest, looking straight at the one-way mirror in front of him.

He could picture her standing behind the glass, looking at him. He could picture her with her two friends, talking about the best way to make him speak. He didn't like either of them, he had decided in a heartbeat at Natasha Romanoff's. He didn't like the black one, and the way he looked at her, and the way he had put a police jacket on her shoulders for her not to get cold. Well, to be honest, he didn't like the blonde one either, with his stupid boyish smile. But the blonde one didn't look at her as if there was some kind of history between them, so Loki could tolerate him.

And Rose. Oh, he hated her right now, but he hated himself more. He could already hear Sif laughing at him, probably with a snarky comment about men's brains being in their pants. She wasn't even wrong, that Sif in his head, and it was making everything even worse. He wouldn't have trusted a man. He wouldn't have trusted a woman either, to be honest, if it wasn't for the tongue-poking smiles, and the chocolate eyes, and the sound of her voice, and –

The sound of the door crashing against the wall startled him, but not enough to make him jump. He didn't have to turn his head to know it was her, so he waited for her to stand in front of him. She had changed her clothes, he noticed, as she felt the need to put her jacket aside to show him her police badge, hooked to her belt – and thank you very much, he knew who she was now, she didn't need to throw it in his face.

"Still not tired of waiting, mate?"

He only cocked an eyebrow at the obvious chav accent in her voice – even her voice had been a lie – but knew better than to point it out. He clearly looked away, his tongue between his inner lip and his gum to show his annoyance. If she noticed - and he knew she did, she always noticed everything - she didn't react, but instead settled for opening his file and reading it. They remained like that for a good ten minutes at least, and he knew they could go on for hours. But, she finally sighed, folding her arms on the table.

"Aren't you even going to speak to me?"

He glared at her for less than a second before looking away again.

"Okay. Fair enough."

And, with that, she went back to reading the file as if nothing had happened, as if everything was normal between them and they weren't in an interrogation room. Oh, she was good, so good. He hung on for twenty minutes before giving in.

"What's your name?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your name. Hannah was obviously an alias. What's your name?"

"Oh." Break. "Rose. Rose Tyler."

He snickered, a dark joyless laugh. "A rose by any other name..."

She had the decency to look embarrassed. He took that as an opportunity to fold his arms on the table, just like her, and to lean his weight against it to be closer to her. He didn't miss the red on her cheeks as she looked away, and he delighted in making her feel ill-at-ease. She deserved it, after all.

"You have nothing to charge me with, Rose Tyler." His voice, only a purr, sounded dangerous nonetheless. "Interpol didn't catch me red hand tonight. For all I know, you're the one who stole that thing, not me. I have nothing to do here and you know it. So let's not waste our time and let me go free, all right?"

"You stole that egg and you stole the Van Gogh, too."

"Well, you can't prove it for the egg. It's your words against mine and, with no evidence, no finger prints, nothing at all, you can't incriminate me. As for the Sunflowers... You assumed it was me. I never corrected you but neither did I take credit for it. You've got nothing on me. Nothing!"

He sat up straight with the proudest of grins. He had to admit that she was impressive, keeping a straight face despite the fire in her eyes. He had never felt sympathy toward police officers, though, and he wasn't about to start now, especially not with her. She had played him all along. It was his time to play.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself, learned lots of funny little thief tricks to show off. But next time you try going under cover, at least make it look realistic. Because you know who can recognize Interpol agents? Thieves who have already been arrested by Interpol, and agents themselves. And a rookie like Hannah wouldn't have been arrested, would she?" He took the time to lick his lips, still grinning. "I knew. Oh, I knew, Rose Tyler. You played the con man, but the con man played you too. It was a game, Rose Tyler, it was all a game, because I was bored and you just happened to be the perfect entertainment."

She was a tough one, this Rose Tyler, keeping a straight face even when he could clearly see the tears in her eyes, one running down her cheek. She kept looking right in front of her, serious and professional as ever. He could only admire her for that. But now wasn't a time for admiration.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do. It was my pleasure."

He stood up and bowed to her, never losing his smirk. He was ready to leave, hand on the door handle, when she decided to speak.

"The kiss wasn't a lie." It surprised him enough to make him look at her. "We may have lied and we may have manipulated each other. But look at me in the eyes and tell me the kiss wasn't true."

He stared at her for longer than he should probably have, then finally opened the door. He was about to close it when he stopped again, deliberately not looking at her. "It wasn't a lie." He slammed the door behind him.

* * *

It had been five months and not a single day without Sif reminding him he had been arrested. And, to be quite honest with himself, he didn't remember most of those five months, just moping for the first few days – weeping for his ego crushed in a hundred pieces – then flying to New York. Everything else was a blur of whiskey and stealing arts in small galleries of SoHo. Sif had been with him at first, but she had flown back to London after three months for "family business". He knew it meant Thor and he knew he didn't want to come along. Drinking was better. And so was selling canvas on the black market.

But Sif had come again and took him back to London, where he was back to his sulky self. He hadn't left his flat in days, only tolerating Sif and the deliveryman to enter the place. The brunette was coming to see him daily, probably to check if he hadn't died of malnutrition yet, but he knew she was otherwise busy. After all, Loki never saw her much when she decided to spend some time with Thor and the boys, for "old times' sake". He couldn't blame her for that, really.

It surprised him, then, in the middle of a shower, to hear the usual sound of the lift doors opening. He was pretty sure Sif would be somewhere in town, laughing and getting wasted with the oldest Odinson. He took his time in the bathroom, knowing she would make herself at home. When he finally got out of the room, it was with only trousers on, drying his black hair with a towel.

"Sif, I told you a hundred times, you don't have to feel guilty for hanging out with my sweet brother. I really don't –"

But the end of his sentence got lost in his throat when he caught sight of the person waiting for him by the lift. It obviously wasn't Sif's slender frame and long dark hair. Instead, Rose Tyler was standing in the middle of the room, all pink and yellow, fidgeting and looking around her in a mix of fear and awkwardness. She clearly looked as if she didn't know what she was doing here. Loki froze, a hand holding the towel against his head, and she stopped moving too when their eyes met. She gave him a small nervous smile. It made him snap.

He was on her in three footsteps, pinning her to the wall with his forearm against her throat. She gasped, her eyes widened in surprise and fear – oh so much fear.

"How dare you come back?" The words were venom on his lips. "How dare you think you were even allowed to come back?"

"I'm – I'm sorry" she managed to whisper.

"No you're not!" He pressed his arm harder against her throat. "You're a cop!"

"Let me explain."

He could feel her trying to swallow, her windpipe against his arm, but he didn't care. She only chocked, coughing as she was trying to breath, which made him let go of her. When his arm was no longer against her throat, she massaged it and, of course, glared at him as if he was the epitome of evilness. Then, she let herself slide against the walk until she sat on the floor, knees up against her chest. He looked down at her, folding his arms on his bare chest, and nodded to tell her to speak. And speak she did.

"I got suspended. So yeah, still a cop." She ironically did some movements with her hands, as if waving invisible pompons. "I wasn't supposed to work on your case in the first place, I had asked for it. So my… failure wasn't much appreciated. Well and what happened afterwards didn't help either. I got caught in the archive room, looking for things I wasn't supposed to look for. About the Doctor. About you. I got a warning for that, especially since it wasn't the first time… But I didn't care. All I could think of was that night at Natasha's and how I screwed up. I was obsessed with that, seriously, looking for my mistakes, trying to find what else I could have done… It was all I had in mind, nights and days…"

He never moved, even when she awkwardly stood up and almost fell back on her bum while doing so. He could only watch her, only focus on her words, trying to find some logical explanation as to why the fact she was a bad officer had led her to come to his flat. But he couldn't find anything explaining such a behavior and it bothered him. She still was such a mystery to him, when everyone else's minds were so easy to understand.

"Anyway. I had a field mission with Mickey last week and I couldn't focus, and Mickey got shot. He almost died because of me. They found things on my computer that shouldn't have been there and it got me in even bigger troubles. I had to explain myself to the bosses. They suspended me for six months. No badge, no gun, no authority. No job."

She shrugged and only then did he understand she was done explaining herself. Even if it still wasn't making any sense to him. He frowned, looked away as if looking at everything but her could help him, only to look back at her and frown even more. She seemed to understand the issue.

"It wasn't just about the case. I couldn't stop thinking about you, Loki. And that's why they almost fired me."

"It didn't mean you could…" But his voice was hoarse and he stopped himself to cough. When he talked again, his voice was lower, more intense. "Why did you come? What do you want?"

"You."

She had a little laugh and shrugged lightly while shaking her head, as if she was shy yet amused to admit it. He made her lose her smile, though, by pinning her to the wall again, her eyes wide as she was afraid he was going to hurt her once more. But his lips attacked her mouth, from which a low moan escaped, only resulting in him pressing his whole body against hers. He didn't try to be gentle, as their first kiss was, anger still pouring in his veins. It was raw, brutal. He could feel one of her hands in his hair, as she was scratching his chest with the other. His were everywhere. Her hair, shoulders, waist, hips, hair again. It was all lips and teeth and oh so hot.

It didn't stop him from springing back when her fingers started playing with the waistband of his trousers.

"You're still a cop. I can't trust you."

She looked hurt, of course, but smiled at him as she closed the distance between them and laid her hand against his chest.

"Don't give me any reason to put you in jail. Any proof, any lead. I have nothing against you, you said so yourself. Let's not change that."

"If I ask you something, anything at all, will you be honest with me and tell me the whole truth?"

She nodded.

"Tell me about the Doctor."

* * *

Reviews help Rose talking about her Time Lord!


	9. 8 Of travelling and settling down

**Author's note:** Wow look at that long chapter! More on the Doctor, Sif being her wonderful self and the beginning of a plot yay. I hope you'll like how the Doctor turned out to be, I'm quite anxious about it. (And, of course, the Doctor is Ten. But there was a hint about his other selves a few chapter earlier if you remember well.)

A big thanks to Sam, who's been so far beta-reading all the chapters I sent her this week. Awesome job!

* * *

Rose sat on one of the high stools by the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. She watched Loki making tea without a word, until he put a mug in front of her and looked at her expectantly. She knew she had to talk, she had promised, but she couldn't think straight, not when she was thinking about him. Memories, buried for so long, came back to her by thousands, making her head spin. She had a slight cough to hide her embarrassment and took the mug in her hands, letting its warm calm her a bit.

"I was nineteen when I met him. Some students cornered me in the basement of the shop where I was working and he came out of nowhere to rescue me. He took my hand and told me to run. Way to make an entrance." She smiled to herself, fond of the memory. "I was dating Mickey at that time, and just about to start my second year of art school, but I didn't care. The Doctor, he has this magnetism that makes you want to travel with him. When you meet him and he asks you to come with him, you know you'll regret it your whole life if you say no… And that's how we travelled for about a year together."

Leaning against the fridge, arms folded on his chest, Loki was listening to her. When he noticed her struggling for words, for which memories to tell him and to keep for her, he simply asked "Is it true he only travels with young women?"

"No." Her voice was harsher than she had wanted. "We met Adam in Utah and he travelled a bit with us, but got himself kicked out because of how stupid he was. And there was Jack…"

There was something in her voice, nostalgia and sadness, which showed she missed this Jack as much as she did with the Doctor and travelling. Loki was tactful enough not to ask more about him and to let her going at her own rhythm.

"I know what they say about him, that he only brings chaos wherever he goes. That's so not true. Travelling with the Doctor, it's... life-changing. It's not just about the travelling, it's so much more than that. He showed me a better way of living my life. You don't just let things happen, you make a stand and try to change them. Having the nerve to do what's right when everybody else ignores the problem. But, yes, he doesn't use conventional ways to reach his goals. I saw him stealing and I saw him hurting people and lying, and cheating. And I helped him. That's why police all around the world wants him. Because he doesn't go by the book, even if it's to achieve good things."

She took the time to drink a bit of her tea, looking at Loki from the corner of her eyes. He hadn't moved since the beginning of her story, his mug of tea left to cool on the kitchen counter, and was only looking at her. He no longer seemed as mad as he had been in the hallway, but was not his quiet self yet, his eyes still angry. But she knew he wasn't going to yell at her once more, he just wanted the truth, nothing but the truth.

"We felt in love along the way." She ignored his reaction, the way his body stiffened at her words. "I promised him forever. I could see myself, for years and years, discovering every country, every civilisation of the world. Just travelling with him, it was fine with me. Just him, me, and the most amazing car I've ever seen... But we came back to London once, because I was missing my mum and dad. And that's when it happened." Her voice was hoarse. "There was something wrong in a laboratory, some scientists doing illegal experiments on human emotions. It all went wrong in less than an hour, it was a nightmare. He tried to convince me to run away, because it was too dangerous. But I was stubborn enough to stay with him. We were about to solve the problem, just about to win, when we got separated. It was my entire fault, I know it. And that's when my dad and the whole police arrived. I remember nothing but my dad taking me in his arms and bringing me outside."

She remembered her father's arms around her body, preventing her from running back into the building. She remembered screaming and kicking, scratching her father until he bleed. She remembered the only way to get away from him had been to kick him in the crotch – he refused to talk to her for a whole month after that. And, mostly, she remembered the empty room, the Doctor gone, and her breakdown.

"When I managed to escape from the police, the Doctor was already gone."

"He left you?!" She couldn't miss the disgust in Loki's voice, the anger in his eyes – but that anger no longer was toward her, and it made her ill-at-ease.

"He had no other choice! He's done lots of illegal stuff, he would have been thrown to jail in a heartbeat!"

"Don't make excuses for him. It doesn't mean that's okay to leave you behind! You're too important to be left behind!"

She looked at him in shock, her mouth opened as if she wanted to answer something but didn't know what to say. She remembered the night of the theft, how he'd chosen the most dangerous path instead of jumping by the window, only because she couldn't follow him. Leaving her behind had never been an option, not even when there were policemen everywhere, not even when he could have tried to escape.

They stared at each other for way too long, silently communicating by the many feelings in their eyes. Anger and irritation, fondness and attachment, trust and doubts. She didn't know how long they remained like that until she finally looked away.

"Anyway. I went back to school and got my Arts degree. I knew I could work for the white-collar, because they look for people who know things about arts. My dad is the chief of the branch so I got in easily despite my past as a companion. For months I looked for the Doctor using the database. I needed to find him. But he's just like you, good at vanishing. After a while, I found somebody had heard from him in Norway. When I got there, it was too late... So I went back to work and settled into a normal life. I never stopped looking for him though..."

She sighed and looked back at him with a sad smile and a little shrug.

"It's funny, you know. Nobody was willing to give me your case, because of my history with the Doctor. Saying I was going to fail because I have a spot for men doing illegal things. Guess I proved them right."

Loki couldn't help but smirk this time as he leaned on the counter in front of her. They remained silent for a while, only a few inches away from each other, without looking away.

"There's something about you, Rose Tyler. When I look at you, I can't catch my breath."

* * *

When she opened her eyes that morning, lost between sleep and real life, it took her time to notice the bed didn't feel quite right and neither did the walls, the dim light, or even the smell of the room. Her fingers reached to her right, only to find cold sheets. Rose closed her eyes as memories from the night slowly came back to her. She remembered Loki and talking about her past, the pasta he had cooked for her and the hours spent in the bed, just talking and laughing lightly. And wine. Lots and lots of wine. Her eyes opened again, widely, as she lifted the sheets to look at her own body. A sigh of relief came through her lips when she saw she was still wearing her tank top and knickers. She sat up and looked around her, looking for her trousers, when voices from the living room surprised her.

Slowly, as silent as possible, she stood up and came near the door to eavesdrop. She easily recognized Sif's voice – as if it could have been someone else anyway.

"... trust a cop! You just can't! And she's not just a cop, she's a cop's daughter! If she doesn't catch you, he will, and neither of us want you in jail, Loki. I've watched you whining for months because of her, I won't..."

That's when Rose decided to open the door, and two pairs of eyes immediately looked at her. She was suddenly very aware of the way she was dressed – or undressed, for all it mattered – and felt her cheeks grow red as Sif was obviously checking her out, jumping to conclusions.

"Seriously?" Her voice was one octave higher, not looking away even if it was obvious she was talking to Loki. "You shagged a cop?!"

She turned around, hands on her hips, to furiously glare at Loki. He responded with an emotionless face, as to make it clear it was none of the brunette's business. The mental discussion, if one could even call it that, last for a while, and Rose could only stare at them and wait. Loki raised an eyebrow, as if making a point. The silence remained for a few more seconds before Sif slowly turned around to look back at Rose, frowning.

"I confessed all my crimes to you. Why am I not being interrogated right now?"

"I kind of... forgot to mention you in my reports?"

Understanding appeared on Sif's face. She softened a bit, unclenching her fists.

"I'm not in the database yet." She proudly smiled to herself, but went back to her serious face in a second. "Why would you do that?"

Rose only shrugged as an answer, which caught Sif off-guard. She frowned even more, looked at Loki, then back at Rose, her lips twitched and, without a warning, she left the flat. Rose's eyes widened as she looked at Loki, who only smirked.

"You did that because you like her, don't you?" Rose quickly nodded, making him chuckle. "Now she thinks she owes you, she hates that. Don't worry, it's just her ego, it won't last long."

"Did you really whine?"

"Shut up."

* * *

She didn't quite know how they settled down in the routine of living together. It just happened, without any of them complaining about it. She only left once, to pick some of her stuff at her flat, then came back. Always the gentleman, he gave her the guest room, and she put her clothes in the wardrobe and her drawing tools on the desk. But, when the thunder rumbled in the middle of one night, frightening her and reminding her of that time the Doctor almost got struck by lightening, she sought refuge in Loki's arms. They never spent a night without each other from this day on.

He'd leave the flat sometimes and she knew not to ask questions about it, she knew exactly what he was doing. In some twisted way, she didn't care. He was always giving her money, without any particular reason, encouraging her to do something with her hands again. She had hesitated at once, not appreciating sponging off him, but had finally bought some clay. Her days were divided between wandering in town with her camera in hands and sculpting in his workshop – which was full of famous canvas but, once again, she didn't want to ask. For the first time since she had stopped travelling with the Doctor, she felt herself living again. And it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

She was working on a new piece, hands dirty with clay, when she heard the sound of the lift, quickly followed by lively conversation. Loki has been right when he had told her Sif would change her mind about her. The two women were getting along, as if nothing had ever happened between them, even if a "Hannah" would sometime slip in Sif's words.

Rose quickly stood up, leaving her sculpture behind as she went to meet them in the living room. Loki's eyes immediately fell on her as she entered the room, a small smile on his lips. Nothing had happened between them since their feverish kiss – well, except sleeping together, of course – but he never hid his attraction toward her. And, as she had rapidly noticed, he seemed to like her new sense of fashion better, with her shorts and oversized tee-shirts instead of her ladylike suits. Just like now, as he scanned her body, smiling at the clay marks on her hands, arms, and face.

"Rose!" Sif shouted with a grin on her lips. "I have a gift for you!"

Rose only frowned, suspiciously looking at the brunette. "How stolen is this gift?"

Loki has a victorious laugh as Sif was cursing between her teeth and he held out his hand to her. She took a £20 note out of her pocket to give it to him.

"I can't believe you're bidding on how predictable I am..." Rose shook her head. "But I still want to know what the gift is."

From the back pocket of her jeans this time, Sif took two little invitation cards and showed them to Rose, excitation all over her face.

"Two seats for Die Walküre!"

Taken by surprise, Rose glanced at Loki, who mouthed the word 'opera' with a wink. She immediately smiled at Sif, trying to be as natural as possible. She was tactful enough not to tell her friend she had never been to the opera before and that she wasn't that thrilled at the idea of spending four hours watching something in German. She chose the easy way.

"Who is the second invitation for?"

"Well, Loki, of course! And you need to change, you can't go to the opera dressed as a college dropout. Choose your prettiest dress!"

"All my dresses are at my flat..."

She really hoped it would be an excuse good enough not to spend the night out. But it was without taking Loki into account, and the way he jumped at the chance.

"If we leave now, we'll have the time to go there for you to dress without being late."

She sighed, knowing she'd never have the last word. "Okay, fine. Just let me clean myself up a bit."

* * *

He spent the whole ride explaining the plot of the opera and she never found the nerve to tell him he had lost her after the first two minutes. So she nodded and 'hum hum' once in a while, her eyes lost in the contemplation of the city on the other side of the window. The whole thing looked like a date and she had no idea if she enjoyed it or not, too confused for that. Of course she liked Loki... well, more than liked, if she was honest with herself, but there were so many subjects they had agreed not to talk about – the Doctor, what would happened once she started working again, Loki's life before the con man, and that mysterious brother of his Sif sometimes mentioned – that Rose knew a relationship between the two of them was bound to fail. And yet she couldn't stop thinking about it.

She was so lost in her thoughts Loki had to touch her shoulder for her to realise they were now parked in front of her building. She only muttered "I'll be quick" before leaving the car. She went up the stairs four at a time... only to freeze in the hallway when she noticed her door was ajar. Her cop senses immediately back, she cautiously pushed the door open and found her flat empty. But she knew better.

It only took her a few seconds to take the gun she hid in the chest of drawers near the door and, pointing it in front of her, she slowly made her way into the flat. Everything was silent around her but she could feel someone else's presence somewhere between the four walls. She was in the middle of her living room, ready to check behind the couch, when the lights suddenly switched on. She turned around, finger on the trigger and...

"Jack!?" Her voice was higher than she had expected.

"Hello there, wolf cub!"

Her eyes widened against her will. Nobody had called her that – or her real nickname, for all it mattered – in years. Actually, she hadn't seen Jack in years and him standing in the middle of her flat looked surreal to her. She took her time to look at him. His face was the same, with the wild suspicious grin and the gleeful eyes. But his hair was different, his shoulders were broader and... oh, the long coat was obviously a perk.

"Looking good, Cap."

He winked and grinned at her. "I'd look even better if we could have this discussion without you pointing a gun at me."

Only then did she realise she was still pointing her weapon at him and, after unloading it, she dropped it on the floor. Jack didn't seem to notice her awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as he hurried to hug her. She had a little surprised scream that ended in a laugh, shaking her legs as he picked her up.

"So, why are you here? And how do you even know where I live?" she asked him after their hug.

"Oh you're hurting me, Rose Tyler! Can't a gentleman pay a lady a visit once in a while?"

Rose's 'you haven't called in five years, you idiot' look was enough of an answer for Jack. He lost his smile, with that straight face of his she had once seen once in the past – Satellite Five and their sick reality shows. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear why Jack had broken into her flat.

"It's the Doctor."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had seen it coming, of course, but hearing it from Jack made it real, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to handle what was about to follow.

"It's the stars..."

"...They're going out." She finished for him, and Jack nodded. "Now we're in trouble."

* * *

For each review, a star remains in the sky. Think about it!


	10. 9 Of Oncoming Storm and Bad Wolf

The Doctor was restless.

Leaning against the car, Donna had been watching him pace for the last ten minutes. He would sometimes stop to run a hand through his hair, even grabbing some locks as if wanting to pull them out, then go back to walking with a deep sigh. She couldn't blame him, really, even if it was always impressive watching John Smith lose control.

It had been a long day, of course, since the moment he realized the stars were going out. What a weird code, Donna had thought at first, until he explained what the stars really were. He'd be on the edge ever since, like a time-bomb. Even the Skype session with all those people Donna didn't know – well, she did know Martha, of course, and Jack definitely was someone she was looking forward to knowing more – hadn't helped him. "Everyone", he'd said, "everyone except Rose". And she'd felt so bad for him.

The Doctor stopped once more with a barbaric grunt and kicked the car's rim, almost immediately regretting it. Donna felt the need to pet the blue bodywork, as if apologizing for its driver's behaviour. The Doctor was on her in a second, his hands on her shoulders, looking at her with wild, bloodshot eyes.

"Donna, think! You've met Rose. What did she say?"

"Just... The stars are going out, and the Bad Wolf will return."

"Anything else?"

Donna was about to answer – and no, of course not, why would she hide information from him anyway? – when she caught sight of something above the Doctor's shoulder. She smiled at him, one of those sweet sisterly smiles she usually saved for Christmases and birthdays. When she spoke, her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

* * *

Jack sat on her desk, making himself at home in a way only he could, and told Rose about everything that had happened to him in the last few years, as she quickly packed some clothes in a bag. He talked about a Gwen and a Rhys and an Ianto, but Rose was too busy in her own head to really listen to him. She knew he wouldn't mind anyway, talking only for the sake of talking. She was shoving boxes of cartridges in her bag – one never knows, with the Doctor – when Jack suddenly stopped talking. She raised her head, ready to mock him, when she met green eyes. Loki was standing in the doorframe, too surprised to move closer, only looking at her. She could feel Jack's eyes jumping from her to Loki to her again and could almost hear him thinking about what snarky comment to make.

"Well I understand now why you never responded to my advances. Tall, skinny, great hair. You definitely have a type."

She rolled her eyes, knowing it was better not to answer. Only then did Loki seem to notice Jack – he probably had seen him already, Jack always was the elephant in the room – as he glared at him.

"Leave us alone, Jack." Rose asked, feeling the need to add "Please."

The American only shrugged as he stood up, closing the door behind him when he left the room. The silence was oppressive as they remained still, facing each other without a word. She didn't have the nerve to talk to him, couldn't find the courage to explain what she was about to do. Not when things were so nice between them, not when something was beginning to happen with the two of them. Just thinking about it broke her heart.

"I've been waiting in the car for half an hour…"

"Loki, I'm leaving."

"What?"

Silence. Rose bit one of her nails, trying her best to avoid looking at him, but she could feel his big green eyes on her.

"This guy, you called him Jack. Is he…?"

"Yes. Yes, he is. He came here because the Doctor is in trouble and he needs me to…"

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

His scream, loud and unexpected, made her jumped. She looked at him, eyes wide, and saw his face distorted by anger and rage. It was the first time she'd heard him curse – maybe it was the scariest thing about him at that moment. She saw, in the corner of her eye, Jack opening the door to make sure everything was okay and she wasn't in danger, but she waved to him to tell him to leave. He understood and closed the door again.

"He needs me!" she told Loki, knowing her arguments were weak, no matter what she said.

"He left you! He abandoned you and never looked back! That's not a man who needs you, Rose Tyler, that's a man who doesn't give a single fuck about you. And you want to run back in his arms just because Jack Harkness asked you to?"

She knew he was right, of course, knew there was no logical explanation for what she was about to do, and yet she couldn't – wouldn't – stop. Because, deep down, she knew the Doctor needed her. And she needed him, too. He had left her because there was no other choice, because it probably was safer that way. She couldn't blame him for it. She knew the Doctor too well for that.

But she only looked down, hurt by Loki's words.

"Give me one reason. Just one good reason, Rose, it's all I'm asking."

"He needs me…" she repeated, her voice weak, sounding like a little girl too scared to confess she'd broken her mother's vase.

"I said a good reason!"

And he was next to her now, grabbing her arm to force her to look at him. It made her snap, but she didn't know exactly why. She glared back at him, hurling the words.

"Because I love him!"

Loki laughed, a cold and emotionless noise, and ran a hand through his hair, looking up and shaking his head. When his eyes met hers again, he slightly bent down for them to be at the same height.

"And me? Don't you love me, Rose Tyler?"

"It's not…"

"What? Not the same? Not love, maybe? You've been sleeping in my bed for weeks, Rose. You probably aren't aware of it, but you play with my hair when you sleep. You were about to spend four hours with me at the opera because you didn't want to disappoint me by saying you hate it. You almost lost your job because I was in your head. I'm in your head right now, and there's a little voice telling you I'm the right guy, telling you he left you and I didn't."

"So what? You think being with you is a better life? You think I'm happy barely ever leaving your flat? All I do is looking at the paintings in your workshop, wondering if that Monet is a real one because you stole it or a replica because you're planning to steal it! I'm a cop, for god's sake! Do you expect me to never go back to work and join yours and Sif's little business? Really, Loki, really?"

"Open your eyes. You love that life as much as I do! Dammit, you're as much in love with me as I am with you!"

She closed her eyes, but it didn't stop a tear from running down her cheek. She pursed her lips even if it was too late, even if the damage was done. He'd said it out loud and there was no going back from that, because both of them knew how true it was, knew they probably were meant to be.

But there was the Doctor, the long coat, the fabulous hair, the devilish grins. The Doctor was reassuring, the Doctor was what had kept her waking up every morning for the past few years. Knowing that, maybe, they'd hear from him that day. That maybe she could go back to him and go back to travelling with him. And if it wasn't that day then, okay, it wasn't that big of a deal. Because there was the following day, and the one after. The Doctor was her anchor. When everything looked complicated with Loki, uncertain, scary, the Doctor was the easy answer.

The Doctor was home.

She couldn't let go of him.

Loki's hand was on her neck before she could stop him, forehead against forehead, his breath against her face. She closed her eyes, not even trying to hold back her tears, as she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. His lips brushed hers. She craved more, for him, for them.

"I love you, Rose. But if you cross that door now, we're done."

"I'm so sorry."

* * *

She threw her bag on her shoulder as she slammed the door with her foot, to which Jack only answered by raising an eyebrow. Hands in the pockets of his military coat, he left the flat, followed by Rose, and led her to the black SUV parked on the other side of the road. He opened the door to her with a half-smile then hurry to sit behind the wheel. They remained silent until they were on the motorway.

"You could have taken pretty boy with you, you know..."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Doctor would love that!" She immediately regretted the sarcasm in her voice, knowing way too well nothing was Jack's fault. He was actually the only one who could understand her, loving the Doctor as much as she did and left behind too. She decided changing subject probably was the easiest way to handle things. "Where are we going anyway? Torchwood?"

"No. You need to meet Donna first."

"Donna? The Donna?"

Jack flashed a grin at her. She focused on the road in front of her, even if she wasn't the one driving, and squirmed in her seat, her hands suddenly sweaty. It didn't took Jack long to leave the motorway and park in a neighbourhood Rose had never seen before, in front of a small park. The Doctor, he had told her, was supposed to spend the day in some science exposition called Midnight and it was safer for everyone if Rose didn't contact him yet, hence the fact that she had to speak to Donna, who wasn't fond of museum and had decided to leave the Doctor on his own for once. How Jack knew so much while she had struggled for months to find information about the Doctor, Rose didn't know. She had stopped trying to understand Torchwood long before Jack became part of it anyway.

"You sure?" she asked him as she opened the door.

"Of course! Go on, she won't bite you..." He pushed her outside. "... Much!"

She made a face at him before turning around, and rubbed her hands against her trousers. She went and sat next to Donna on the bench, not even daring to look at her, and both women remained silent for so long, one might have thought they had nothing in common and just happened to be sitting next to each other.

"You're my brother's Rose, right?"

The words Donna used – 'my brother' – surprised Rose so much she was left speechless. She had expected so many things, from Blondie to 'one more companion', than the acknowledgement of Donna's relationship with the Doctor caught her by surprise. Both women knew it wasn't quite true, the redhead and John did not have the same blood running through their veins, but Donna was the closest thing he had to a family. Rose knew the story, even if she was still missing a few details. He had left home when he was only a teenager, stealing the Tardis along the way, wandering aimlessly for a long time, until he met the Nobles. He got along well with Donna and was taken under her grandpa Wilf's protection. He would visit them once in a while, just to say hello, but Rose had never been allowed to meet them. It only was one of the Doctor's secrets she was willing not to discover, some privacy she gave him.

And here she was now, facing the Doctor's sister.

"Yes, it's me. Rose Tyler."

"Well maybe you need glasses then, because he's obviously not here."

"It's you I want to talk to."

"Want or have to?"

Rose smirked. Cleverness ran in the family. "I can't talk to him, it's too dangerous, but I have a message for him and I hope you'll give it to him."

"So that's it. I'm your carrier pigeon!" She snorted. "From what he told me, you sounded braver than that."

"I can't see him! It would put me, him, you, my friends, everyone in danger. I can't risk it."

"Fine, Blondie. Do tell."

* * *

The rest of the day passed by too slowly for Rose's sanity. Jack had brought her to what he called the Hub, Torchwood's headquarters, and she was now sitting on one of the couches, waiting. She'd met Ianto and Gwen – to her surprise, she was the twin of that Gwyneth girl Rose had met in Cardiff – and got along well with them. But they were all working and she found herself watching them and eating pizza, something that bored her after five minutes. She kept looking at her cell phone, hoping from a text message from Loki or Sif, or maybe a call from the Doctor. But the phone remained silent and so did she.

It lasted two more days, between sleep and boredom. Sometimes, Jack would sit next to her to speak. It was small talk at first, with fond memories and jokes only they could understand – her 'are you my mummy?' made him laugh for five minutes and his impression of Margaret Blaine was so good she nearly choked on her soda – but, inevitably, they ended up talking about Satellite Five and what happened after they got separated. The Dalek mafia and how the Emperor had mocked her by calling her 'big bad wolf' to show how much of a danger she wasn't, and how she'd earned the nickname by shooting him and all the other mobsters in the room. How Jack got shot too but was wearing a bulletproof vest and pretended to be dead to stay safe. How the Doctor and Rose had ran to Barcelona, leaving the mess to Jack, and how she'd begged the Doctor to come back.

Jack was about to explain what happened next, when he was interrupted by the computer. "Captain Harkness, are you there?"

"Is that...?" Rose started, recognizing the feminine voice. Jack jumped on his feet and ran to the computer, pointing another screen, webcam-less, to her. Still with the hiding. She smiled at Harriet Jones and Sarah Jane's faces, a little less when that Martha girl appeared out of nowhere and introduced herself as the Doctor's former companion – oi, she was a companion too! Her face went blank when the Doctor appeared on the screen and was grateful for Gwen taking her hand without looking away from her own screen. 'Everyone except Rose' he said, and she had to close her eyes to focus and not to scream she was here too.

Then the screen went blank.

And he appeared.

Rose had to bite her fist not to let escape the sound of surprise coming from her mouth. She turned her head toward Jack, who shared a panic look with her as he was taking Gwen and Ianto in his arms in a protective way. She understood the hiding part of their plan, now, even if they didn't know who they were dealing with until now. It only had been preventive at first, knowing the Doctor had enemies and it was easy to hurt them by attacking Rose. But it was Davros, and it meant Rose was in real danger now. One could not kill the Emperor and hope Davros wouldn't want to avenge his precious right arm.

Jack waited until the screens were black again to come near her. "Rose, we're going to find him. Armed."

* * *

The gun hanging by her side was so heavy she wasn't even sure she could use it if she had to. But she never complained to Jack, feeling safer with the big thing by her side. And with him next to her, too. It had taken Torchwood barely five minutes to find the Tardis by hacking the CCTV cameras in town, and they were now heading to Mayfair. She tried not to think about how ironic it was, to find the Doctor in the neighbourhood where she and Loki first met in a tea room.

But Loki disappeared from her mind when, with trembling hands, she opened the SUV's door. Jack was following her, of course, but a few feet back, probably knowing what was about to happen. It had been years, after all.

She saw him first, as he had his back to her, and Donna was next to him, telling something that make him turn around. And look at her. She gave him a nervous smile as he looked at her, stunned, like he couldn't believe his eyes. She couldn't tell who started running first and who followed, her heart beating too fast for her own good, her enormous firearm hitting her hip with each step. Her body crashed against his, almost knocking them both over, but he took her in his arms, her face buried in his neck and legs kicking in the air with happiness. He gave her one of his manly giggles, then let go of her. They smiled at each other, tongue against teeth and maniacal grin.

"Oi, road boy! There's a time and place for everything!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, which made Rose chuckle, before turning around to Donna and Jack, an arm still around the blonde's shoulders. "Captain."

Jack gave him a salute. "Ready to kick some Daleks' arses with you, Doc."


	11. 10 Of running way

**Author's note**: Last chapter of the fic. I apologize in advance for this one, as it hasn't been beta-read. The sequel will come, someday. Thanks for reading and reviewing, it meant a lot to me!

* * *

The sun was setting on London when the blue Impala parked in front of Rose's building. It had been a hell of a day for everyone, exhausting and filled with emotions. More than once, Rose thought she was about to die, right there, by the hand of a Dalek, and it probably was a miracle that all of them were still alive – she couldn't say the same about the mobsters they were fighting against, though. She didn't understand how they all managed to sit in the car, Rose next to the Doctor with her feet on the dashboard, Donna happily sitting on Jack's knees, as the Doctor was driving them home one by one. They all said goodbye to Sarah Jane, then to Jack and Martha – who, apparently, was going to spend some time with Torchwood – then ended in front of Rose's flat. It wasn't that much of a surprise, even if the idea of travelling had been on her mind since the moment her eyes had met the Doctor's again.

Donna was tactful enough to stay in the car as Rose and the Doctor got out of it, and the blonde girl took time to fondly stroke the blue car. She'd never had a thing for cars, but this one was different. It was the Tardis, after all, and one always felt attached to it. Travelling wouldn't have the same flavour without this sexy thing. Rose muttered an 'I'll miss you' to the car before looking at the Doctor. He was waiting for her by the sidewalk, hands deep in the pockets of his striped suit, rocking on his feet.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?"

"Well..." He dwelled a little too long on the word, even to his own standards, for it to sound natural. He scratched the back of his head, looking for words. It was such a weird thing to witness, a speechless John Smith. "This whole mission made me realise a thing. Well, two, actually. That I missed you. And that this life is way too dangerous for you, and I wouldn't bear to lose you that way. I guess that's three things, then."

She nodded, looking down as she rubbed the tip of her shoe against the asphalt of the sidewalk. She was waiting for disappointment, sadness, anger, anything really, but nothing came to her. She missed that life, yes, but she no longer needed it.

"What's his name?" She looked up at the Doctor, eyes widened by the surprise. "Oh come on, you know Jack, he never misses an opportunity for gossips."

"Oh." She mentally added 'kill Jack Harkness' to her check-list. "Loki. It's not... He's not..."

"I understand."

"Really?"

"Are you implying I'm the jealous type, Rose Tyler?"

"Two words: Adam Mitchell."

"Well..." Again with scratching his neck and looking away. "Donna, she may speak loudly and all, but she helped me working on myself, getting over... certain things."

"_Me_."

"Yup. You. You know, Rose, people may call me the Doctor but you're the real healer. You helped me be a better man. And it'd be selfish to keep you to myself. You make people better. So you should keep doing that with him."

"But I..." The tears were unexpected. She shook her head, trying to laugh to hide them, but only a sad sound came out of her mouth. "I love you."

"Quite right, too. And Rose Tyler, I –"

Her hands were on the collar of his suits before he could finish his sentence – she wouldn't allow him to finish, the words were better unspoken – and her lips crashed against his. They'd hugged many times, but never had he held her that tight before, his arms around her almost touching his own ribcage. Her hands ended in his hair, his oh so fabulous hair, which made him hold her tighter if it even was possible. He was about to change his mind, she was about to say yes at everything he could ask her and...

"Rose?"

She led go of the Doctor, with swollen lips and dark eyes, panicking at the sound of this voice she knew way too well. Loki was standing a few feet away, a blue jumper she recognized as hers in his hand. The surprise on his face left place to nothingness, his way of showing anger.

"Why did I bother, really..."

She half-expected him to drop the piece of clothes on the floor but he only turned around and left in a hurry. She made a few steps toward him until she remembered the Doctor was still here. He only nodded, mastering the blank face too, even if his eyes were redder than usual. She was suddenly torn between the two options in front of her, the Doctor's wildness or Loki's coldness, adventure or thief, day or night.

The Doctor was the obvious answer.

But Rose Tyler wasn't one to choose the obvious.

"Loki, wait!"

She ran after him and turned at the street corner, only to find an empty sidewalk. She went backtracked, knowing perfectly well the Impala would no longer be parked in front of her building.

* * *

"...So I just went back home. And here I am, a week later."

Drinking hot tea, Sif only nodded at Rose's words, then lean on her elbows on the kitchen table. It was close to surreal, having a beautiful and delicate creature such as Sif in her flat, with her shiny hair and perfect nails, but Rose tried to disregard it. She was actually relieved to see the brunette, to actually have someone to talk to. Sif nodded once more, a small frown on her brows.

"But what does that mean? 'The stars are going out'?"

"It's a coded message, so the former companions of the Doctor know when something terrible happens to him and he needs help. His own little apocalypse."

"Just like Ragnarok."

"Like what?"

"Ragnarok? Norse mythology?"

Sif pursed her lips as Rose shook her head and both women remained silent for a while, drinking their tea and avoiding one another's eyes. Rose was to return working the following week, not sure if she was ready to wear the badge just yet, after everything that had happened. But she had no other choice and knew her friendship with Sif wouldn't last long. They were enemies, after all, and Rose couldn't compromise her job once more.

She clicked her tongue, trying – and failing – to look casual.

"Do you have news from...?"

"No." Sif might have realised how harsh she sounded, and she softened a bit – as soft as Sif could actually get. "I went to visit my family in Oslo right after you left with him. I only came back this morning."

"Oslo? Norway Oslo?"

Sif raised an eyebrow. "You've known him for months and he never told you we're Scandinavians?"

"Might have forgotten to mention it, yes..." How many more secrets Loki Odinson had kept hidden from her? "Well, that explains the Ragna-thing."

"Ragnarok," Sif corrected, before continuing speaking, unflinching. "I just found an empty flat, all your stuff in a box and a letter asking me to send it all back to you. 'PS: I'm going to New York, don't follow me.' That's all."

With a loud sigh, Rose folded her arms on the table in front of her and placed her head on them, looking like a sad puppy. "He won't come back." It wasn't even a question, she'd known the thief long enough to guess such a thing. But Sif's worried eyes, and the fact she bit her bottom lip, were enough for Rose to get anxious too.

"Remember when we first met, I told you about his brother? I think you leaving him for someone else kind of, er, triggered old feelings. I think he snapped."

"And that's not good, is it?"

"He almost killed someone when it happened... So, no, not good at all."

* * *

There was nothing she could do about the Doctor – Jack would keep her update when the Impala popped up on Torchwood's radar and what the heck was he doing in the middle of the desert anyway?

There was nothing she could do about Loki – she would check Interpol's website everyday and her database at least twice a day, weighing up the pros and cons of calling Natasha Romanoff to ask if she knew if something was going on.

There was nothing she could do about Sif – they had said goodbye and the brunette had talked about some vacations in Los Angeles, and she had made sure to say it had absolutely nothing to do with business.

Rose had never felt so alone.

Her work was boring, for she wasn't allowed to do work field just yet and was stuck with paperwork. Nothing Mickey would do to cheer her up was effective and he and Jake had given up on make her smile about three days ago. She would just come in the morning, sat at her desk, do her job, and leave at five, barely saying a word. The only reason she wasn't fired yet was her actual great job, but she was longing for such a thing to happen. Loki had been so right, telling her she loved his life. And she was missing it so much it was physically painful.

She opened the door of her flat with a kick of her foot and dropped her bag on the floor without delicacy. All she wanted was a good bath, Ian Dury out loud, and a glass of wine. She'd deserve it anyway. She was so tired, her body aching from all those hours sitting in the same position, she wouldn't have noticed an elephant crossing her living room. And that's probably why, when she turned on the light, a long and high-pitch noise escaped from her mouth. It wasn't an elephant but a man, in a long black coat – what was it with the coats anyway? – and an eye patch. His valid eye was glaring at her and, as her heart kept racing, she vaguely wondered if facing Alastor Mad-Eye felt like this.

"Rose Tyler?" His voice, deep and low, brought her back to earth.

"That's a private propriety. Get out before I call the police."

He obviously couldn't care less. "I'm Director Nick Fury from the F.B.I. and I'm here to talk to you about Loki Laufeyson."


End file.
